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LITERARY FABLES, 



THE SPANISH OF YRIARTE. 



BY RICHARD ANDREWS. 



Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci. 



j^Y OF CO/ 



sP/K 



LONDON: 
SMITH, ELDER AND CO., CORNHILL, 

BOOKSELLERS TO THEIR MAJESTIES. 



1835. 



?«. 



5-V 



i 



LONDON : 

PRINTED BY STEWA11T AND CO., 

OLD BAILEY. 



TO 

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 

LORD HOLLAND, 

THE DISTINGUISHED LOVER AND PATRON OF 
SPANISH LITERATURE, 

&1H9 Volume 

IS, BY PERMISSION, DEDICATED, 

AS A TRIBUTE OF SINCERE RESPECT, 



HIS LORDSHIP S OBLIGED AND 



MOST OBEDIENT HUMBLE SERVANT, 



THE AUTHOR, 



PREFACE. 



In offering the present work to the favour 
of the public, it becomes necessary for 
me to say a few words with respect to a 
kind of literature which may seem to be- 
long rather to the days that are gone, and 
to possess few attractions for the taste of 
modern times. 

As an elegant and impressive mode of 
conveying the most useful lessons, this spe- 



Vlll PREFACE. 

cies of composition must ever be held in 
the highest estimation ; but then, an 
opinion is entertained that the materials 
for fables have been long since exhausted ; 
that the labours of iEsop and Phsedrus, 
and, more recently, of La Fontaine and 
Gay, in the same line, have left to suc- 
ceeding fabulists little hope or power of 
novelty. From this objection, whatever 
may be its value in general, the fables of 
Yriarte must claim to be completely ex- 
empted ; the originality of their conception, 
in being applied solely to literary subjects, 
is alone a sufficient distinction, but the 
lively and spirited style in which they are 
executed, abounding with rich and spark- 
ling humour, entitle them to a degree of 
merit peculiarly their own. Ingenious 
in their invention and useful in their end, 
they may rank as no unworthy supple- 
ment to the f Ars Poetica ' of Horace, con- 
stituting a code of laws which take cogni- 



PREFACE. IX 

zance of almost every possible offence 
against the principles of good taste and 
good sense, and performing the same ser- 
vice for literature which the fables of others 
have effected in the cause of virtue and 
morality. 

Yriarte died in 1790. Besides the Fables, 
which have long won him an immortal re- 
putation in his own country and amongst 
all lovers of Spanish literature, he wrote, 
' La Musica,' an elegant poem, which has 
been translated into English. 

Throughout this version of the ' Fabulas 
Literarias,' I have endeavoured to give the 
spirit of the author rather than a dull and 
literal translation . With this obj ec t in view, 
I have not scrupled to alter those parts 
which, containing allusions to customs 
purely Spanish, it would be impossible to 
give with any satisfaction to an English rea- 



PREFACE. 



der, and to adapt others in order to increase 
their effect, substituting something, as pa- 
rallel as possible, and more applicable to 
our present habits and ideas. These in- 
stances are, however, few in number, and, 
with their exception, I have adhered to the 
text with scrupulous fidelity. There is, 
however, something in the wit and humour 
of the Spanish, which is scarcely to be 
communicated to other languages, and this 
difficulty has been considerably increased 
by the necessity of not transgressing that 
conciseness which is one of the chief 
beauties of the original, and in preserving 
which, I trust I have not fallen into the 
errors of abruptness or obscurity. 

In conclusion, though I am far from 
being one of those who 

" Think themselves authors when they've wrote 
A prologue, preface, or a note ;" 

I humbly hope that my author has not 



PREFACE. X 

suffered much at my hands, and that I 
may not have unwittingly numbered my- 
self amongst that class of translators, who 
according to Fable VI : 

" ............ hapless wits ! 

Turn, by their version, swords to spits." 



CONTENTS, 



The Elephant and other Animals 

The Silkworm and the Spider 

The Flint and the Steel 

The Swan and the Linnet 

The Tea and the Sage . 

The Sword and the Spit 

The Duck and the Serpent 

The Muff, the Fan, and the Parasol 

The Mole and other Animals . 

The Two Parrots . 

The Bee and the Drones 

The Showman's Monkey 

The Bear, the Monkey, and the Pig 

The Beau and the Pewter Buckles 



Page 

1 



7 
8 
10 
13 
14 
15 
18 
20 
23 
26 
28 



l 



XIV CONTENTS. 

Page 

- The Great and the Small Bell 29 

The Sportsman and the Ferret 30 

* The Mouse and the Cat 33 

The Ox and the Beetle . . ' . . . .34 

» The Frog and the Hen . . '. . . . .36 

* The Two Rabbits 37 

* The Author and the Rat 38 

* The Musical Ass , . . 40 

* The Dromedary and the Ostrich ..... 42 

* The Ant and the Flea . 43 

* The Pellitory and the Thyme . . . . . 45 
The Magistrate and the Robber ..... 47 

* The Bee and the Cuckoo 48 

* The Cat and the Lizard 50 

* The Lace-makers . . 52 

The Lion and the Eagle 54 

* The Cripples 55 

The Owl and the Lamp — the Dogs and the Bone-grubber 58 

The Maid and the Broom ...... 60 

' The Peacock and the Crow ...... 61 

' The Zoologist and the Lizards 63 

- The Eggs . 65 



CONTENTS. 



XV 



' The Frogs and the Bulrushes 

The Oilman's Ass 
. The Parrot, the Jay, and the Mag 
» The Portrait . . . 

The Two Thrushes 

The Toad and the Owl . . 

• The Ass and his Master 

* The Cock and his Combats . 
v The Viper and the Leech 

The Beetle .... 

* The Goat and the Horse 
' The Purchase of the Ass 

# The Silkworm and the Caterpillar 

• The Turkey 

* The Animals' Concert . 

v The Monkey and the Magpie 
- The Wolf and the Shepherd . 
■ The Gardener and his Master 

* The Monkey 

• The Squirrel and the Horse . 
" The Cock, the Hog, and the Lamb 
•The Watches . 



Page 
68 



70 
71 
75 
77 
78 
80 
81 
83 
84 
86 
89 
90 
92 
96 



. 100 
. 102 
. 105 
. 106 
. 108 



XVI 



CONTENTS. 



The Two Travellers 

The Learned Rich Man 

The Rope-dancer and his Pupil 



The Turnspit and the Mule . 



The Macaw and the Marmot 
The Nightingale and the Sparrow 
The Mule and the Traveller . 
The Wasps . ... 



Page 
. 110 

113 

115 

117 
120 
121 
122 

124 



PROLOGUE, 



THE ELEPHANT AND OTHER ANIMALS. 

In those long-vanished ages, when, 

Beyond the memory of men, 

In lands now nameless and unknown 

The brutes had empires all their own, 

And still possessed, if tales say true, 

The powers of thought and language too, 

The elephant was grieved to see 

His brethren's immorality, 

And, with enthusiasm warm, 

Resolved to bring about reform ; 

Full of this laudable intention, 

He called forthwith a great convention. 



2 THE ELEPHANT AND OTHER ANIMALS. 

Soon as his audience reached the ground, 
First bowing courteously around, 
He stood with downcast eyes awhile, 
Then waved his trunk in graceful style, 
And, in a speech prepared by heart, 
Began to play the censor's part. 
For near an hour he stood declaiming, 
With all the strength of virtue, blaming 
The faults and follies which, by stealth, 
Had crept within the commonwealth. 
In language stern, and tone unawed, 
He spoke of murder, rapine, fraud — 
Malicious envy — baneful sloth — 
He forcibly denounced them both, 
And haughty ignorance, and spleen, 
Did not escape his satire keen ; 
Lastly, by way of peroration, 
He lashed conceit and affectation. 

With ears and mouths extended wide, 
Seeming much pleased and edified, 
Some of his congregation heard, 
With eagerness, his ev'ry word. 
The gentle lamb, th' industrious bee, 
The pointer, famed for loyalty, — 



THE ELEPHANT AND OTHER ANIMALS. 

The faithful dove, with modest eye, 
The unassuming butterfly, 
The frugal ant, the noble horse, 
The skilful linnet, — owned the force 
With which he marked the guilty's ways, 
And proved their feelings by their praise. 

But not from all the listeners round, 
His strictures such reception found ; 
For, many, mortally offended, 
Scarce waiting till his speech had ended, 
With loud and fierce invective, bore 
Against the hapless orator : 
The robber wolf, the coward cur, 
Growled on the wise philosopher ; 
The tiger gnashed his teeth upon him, 
The serpent spat his venom on him ; 
The wasp, the hornet, and the drone, 
Abused him in a lower tone ; 
The caterpillar left the place, 
And close behind, with haughty pace, 
The locust stalked, in aspect grim — 
His friend the snail crawled after him; 
The weasel vowed he could not stay, 
For he had business that day ; 
b2 



4 THE ELEPHANT AND OTHER ANIMALS. 

The fox remained to try his wit, 
A most consummate hypocrite, 
With one eye on the speaker turned, 
Seeming attentive and concerned, 
With th'other winking on the ape, 
Who, letting not a word escape, 
By mimickiy, and joke, and pun, 
Turned the most solemn parts to fun. 

The elephant observed all this, 
And cool and calm, 'midst growl and hiss, 
Having with wondrous patience waited, 
Cried, when the clamour had abated : 
" My masters all, I here protest, 
The censures which I late expressed, 
And which such rude return have won, 
Were meant for all, and yet for none. 
They, therefore, who my words condemn, 
Seem to confess they merit them, 
And, if convicted, they must see, 
'Tis by themselves, and not by me." 

Readers — my fables, be it known, 
Are not addressed to you, alone, 
(For all the world may justly claim 
To share their moral, and their blame,) 



THE SIL&WOIIM AND THE SPIDER. 

Nor only to the present times ; 
For literary faults, and crimes, 
Siich as obtain their censure free, 
Have ever been, will ever be. 
Here, then, I openly disclaim 
All personal and private aim. 
If any, notwithstanding, will 
Take a mere general lesson ill, 
Because it suits himself,— I say, 
Let him digest it as he may. 



THE SILKWORM AND THE SPIDER. 

The spider, with a scornful smile, 
Weaving with fury all the while, 
Thus to the modest silkworm said, 
Who calmly spun her precious thread : 
" Pray, my slow sister, what d' ye say 
To this, my web, begun to-day, 



O THE FLINT AND THE STEEL. 

Which, now, just finished, decks my cell 
Don't it look delicate, and well ?" 

"It does look well, and that is all." 
The silkworm answered from her ball. 



THE FLINT AND THE STEEL, 

The flint, with language, harsh and high, 

Accused the steel of cruelty, 

In striking her with all his might, 

Whene'er he wanted fire and light. 

The steel the imputation spurned, 

And, with such warmth the contest burned, 

That both, at last, agreed to slip 

Their contract of companionship. 

" Good bye, then, madam," said the one ; 

" And, since my company you shun, 

And to continue with me doubt, 

We '11 see what use you are, without." 

" About as much as you will be, 

Good sir," she answered, " without me.'' 



THE SWAN AND THE LINNET. 

Writers, revolve this tale of mine, 
Nor think it needless to combine 
With powers naturally strong, 
The help of study, close and long. 
Does not this fable true reveal, 
The flint shines not without the steel ? 
No more can talent without art, 
For both are useless when apart. 



THE SWAN AND THE LINNET. 

Piqued at the linnet's song, one day, 
The swan exclaimed : — " Leave off ! I say- 
Be still, you little noisy thing ! 
What — dare you challenge me to sing, 
When there ' s no voice, however fine, 
Can match the melody of mine ? 
(The linnet warbled on) — D'ye hear? 
This impudence may cost you dear; 
1 could with one harmonious note 
For ever stop your squeaking throat, 



THE TEA AND THE SAGE. 

And, if I do not choose to try, 
Respect my magnanimity." 

" I wish," at length the linnet said, 
" I wish, to Heaven, the proof were made ; 
You can't imagine how I long 
To hear that rich and flowing song, 
Which, though so sweet, by fame averred, 

1 know not who has ever heard/' 

The swan essayed to sing, but — whew ! 
She screeched and squalled a note or two, 
Until the linnet, it appears, 
Took to her wings to save her ears. 

'Tis strange when some of learned fame 
Will prove their title to the name, 
How oft the ill-placed praise they mar, 
And show how ignorant they are. 



THE TEA AND THE SAGE, 



The tea, from China on her way, 
Met in some sea, or gulf, or bay,- 



THE TEA AND THE SAGE. 

(Would to her log I might refer !) 

The sage, who thus accosted her : 

" Sister, — ahoy I ho ! whither bound ?" 

u I leave/' she said, " my native ground, 

For Europe's markets, where, I'm told, 

They purchase me by weight of gold." 

" And I/' the sage returned, " am seeking 

The route to Canton, or to Peking ; 

Your Chinese use me largely, in 

Their cookery and medicine ; 

They know my virtues, nor deny 

The price I ask, however high, 

While Europe scorns me, just, indeed, 

As if I was the vilest weed. 

Go : and good luck t' ye ; know full well 

That you are sure enough to sell, 

For nations all, (fools that they are !) 

Value whatever comes from far, 

And give their money, nothing loth, 

For anything of foreign growth." 

I humbly ask the sage's pardon, 
(His race is honoured in my garden) 
The sneer parenthetic he made 
Attacks the very life of trade ; 



10 THE SWORD AND THE SPIT. 

But had his satire been designed 

For trade of literary kind, 

I had completely acquiesced 

In all the censure it expressed. 

How frequently, alas ! we meet 

Men who can readily repeat 

Whole poems in a foreign tongue, 

That Boileau wrote, or Tasso sung, 

Yet scarcely know what land may claim 

The honour of a Spenser's name. 



THE SWORD AND THE SPIT. 

A sword, the most distinguished blade, 
That e'er Toledan cutler made, 
Well tempered, polished, keen and bright, 
Had served in many a famous fight ; 
From chief to chief — from sire to son — 
Still for its owner fame had won, 
And oft its edge in deadliest fray 
Had turned the chances of the day. 



THE SWORD AND THE SPIT. 11 

At length, (alas ! such fortune clings 

Ever to sublunary things,) 

Oft bought, and sold, and changed, it passed 

From hand to hand, until at last, 

By some strange chance, t'was placed within 

The dirty garret of an inn, 

There, amongst vilest lumber thrust, 

A helpless prey to damp and rust. 

Thus idle and forgot it lay, 
Until the cookmaid came one day, 
Seized the proud pommel in her hand, 
('Twas by the foolish host's command, 
No doubt, a dull and senseless clown,) 
Then to her kitchen going down, 
Transfixed upon the once famed steel, 
A capon for a traveller's meal ; 
And lo ! a common spit it yields, 
The falchion of a thousand fields ! 

A certain boorish cavalier, 
Whose fame and pedigree, I fear, 
Were not of most distinguished sort, 
It chanced just then had come to court, 
Who, wishing, with a seemly pride, 
To have a rapier at his side, 



12 THE SWORD AND THE SPIT. 

Strait to a famous cutler went 
To buy the gay accoutrement. 
The cutler, who was well aware 
That few such dangerous weapons bear, 
(So peaceful are our manners grown,) 
For aught save ornament alone, 
And, so the hilt and sheath agree, 
No matter what the blade may be, 
Resolved a goodly gain to earn, 
And begged next day he would return j 
Then, going to his scullery, took 
A rusted spit from off a hook, 
And what with cleaning — grinding — whetting- 
And to the blade a pommel setting, 
With golden guard, and scabbard bright, 
He sold it to the simple knight, 
Vowing it was the noblest brand, 
E'er wrought by famed Ferrara's hand. 
And now — the cutler or the host — 
Which one deserves our censure most ? 
Or may we not thus shortly rule ; 
The one was knave — the other fool ? 
And these same admirable natures 
Form the two kinds of bad translators. 



THE DUCK AND THE SERPENT. 13 

Some take illustrious works, that stand 
Distinguished in their native land, 
And, by their version, (hapless wits !) 
Turn, like the landlord, swords to spits — 
Whilst others, like the cutler, dress 
The refuse of the foreign press, 
In all the glitter art affords, 
And sell the vilest spits for swords. 



THE DUCK AND THE SERPENT, 

A self-coneeited duck, one day, 
Was waddling from her pond away : 
" What other race can boast," she cried, 
" The many gifts to our's allied ? 
Earth — water — air — are all for us, 
When I am tired of walking thus, 
I fly, if so I take the whim, 
Or if it pleases me I swim." 
A cunning serpent overheard 
The boasting of the clumsy bird, 
And, with contempt and scorn inflamed 
Came hissing up, and thus exclaimed : 



14 THE MUFF, FAN AND PARASOL. 

" It strikes me, ma'am, there's small occasion 
For your just uttered proclamation ; 
These gifts of yours shine rather dim, 
Since, neither like the trout you swim, 
Nor, like the deer, step swift and light, 
Nor match the eagle in your flight." 

They err who think that merit clings 
To knowledge slight of many things ; 
He who his fellows would excel, 
Whate'er he does should do it well. 



THE MUFF, THE FAN, AND THE PARASOL 

It sounds presumptuous and ill 
To boast of universal skill, 
But 'tis a scarce less fault, I own, 
To serve one sort of use alone. 

An idle parasol, one day, 
Within a lady's chamber lay, 
And having nothing else to do, 
Addressing his companions two, 



THE MOLE AND OTHER ANIMALS. 15 

Reclining near, a muff and fan, 
He thus insultingly began, 
Using that form of dialect, 
In which, if iEsop is correct, 
The brass and earthen j ars, of old, 
Conversed as down the stream they rolled. 
" Oh ! sirs, ye merit mighty praise ! 
You, muff, may do for wintry days, 
A corner is your lot in spring ; 
While you, fan, are an useless thing, 
When cold succeeds to heat, for neither 
Can change yourselves to suit the weather, 
Learn, if you're able, to possess, 
Like me, a double usefulness, 
For winter's rain I help to shun 
And guard in summer from the sun." 



THE MOLE AND OTHER ANIMALS. 

Some merry quadrupeds, one day, 
Had met in sportive mood, to play 



16 THE MOLE AND OTHER ANIMALS. 

(A rare diversion sure enough,) 

At a snug game of blind-man's buff'. 

A rat, a squirrel, and a hare, 

Companions in the frolic were : 

A puppy and a fox, made five, 

And he who kept the game alive, 

By jeer and gibe, and turns and tricks, 

Our worthy monkey friend, made six, 

Who, as the readiest with the hand, 

Had volunteered their eyes to band. 

A mole, who heard the noise, crept out, 
To learn what it was all about, 
And, when she understood the fun, 
" By Jove !" she said," but I'll make one." 
So, with some trouble, groped her way, 
And begged for leave to join their play. 

The monkey welcomed her, and vowed 
They felt delighted, happy, proud ; 
With other sayings of the sort, 
Knowing she'd make them famous sport. 
And so, indeed, the sequel proved, 
She stumbled every step she moved ; 
Her eyes being buried deeply in, 
And covered with a sort of skin. 



THE MOLE AND OTHER ANIMALS. 17 

So almost ere the game began, 
Against a clod of earth she ran, 
And falling flat upon her nose, 
We may with certainty suppose 
They did not let the occasion slip, 
Of seizing on her ladyship. 

Now, by the custom of the game, 
She, being caught, the buff became ; 
And who, by nature or by art, 
Could be more fitted for the part ? 
But, as the charge she undertook, 
To give the thing a better look, 
She cried : " Why this delay ? time flies : 
Sir Monkey, will you bind my eyes ?" 

If he who's blind, and knows it, too, 
Pretends he sees with vision true, 
We need not wonder, if we find 
The same, in blindness of the mind • 
Nor doubt that never-failing rule, 
That none e'er owns himself a fool. 



18 



THE TWO PARROTS. 

A lady from Mauritius brought 

Two parrots, who, it chanced, were caught 

In different quarters of the isle, 

And spoke a different tongue and style : 

For as the land divided lies 

'Twixt French and English colonies, 

It was no wonder that each bird 

Should speak the language he had heard. 

Thus, j abbering on in either tongue, 

In the verandah as they hung, 

They made it soon a second Babel ; 

Talking as fast as they were able, 

In French and English mixed together, 

Till it was really doubtful, whether 

Ere long, they had not quite forgot 

Which was their own, and which was not, 

Had not the dame their music thwarted, 

By having the companions parted. 



THE TWO PARROTS. 19 

The French philosopher soon spurned 
The little English he had learned ; 
And, ere a dozen days were o'er, 
Conversed as purely as before. 
Not so, the English Parrot thought ; 
The gallicisms he had caught 
He as an ornament regarded, 
With which his speech he interlarded. 
It chanced, one day, he grumbling stood, 
Because they gave him beans for food : 
" Peste on these seeds, de mauvaises mines, 
I'm not an fait at eating beans, 
The prestige, once my sure defence 
Against such betise negligence, 
Has vanished, and unje ne sais quoi 
Of meanness seems my keeper's law." 

A cunning monkey, who was near, 
And chanced this jargon to o'erhear, 
With a most ludicrous grimace 
Here burst out laughing in his face. 
" Ho ! ho !" exclaimed the angry bird, 
Not doubting with a single word 
The monkey's mouth with shame to close, 
" Sir, you're a purist I suppose?" 
c2 



20 THE BEE AND THE DRONES. 

" I am, indeed," the other cried, 

" And bear the name with joy and pride." 

Transform these animals to men 
Would not the tale be better then ? 



THE BEE AND THE DRONES. 

Once on a time, in summer weather, 
The drones had met in swarms together, 
A weighty matter to debate 
Touching their long degraded state, 
And, by all ways and means, contriving 
To hide the slothful way of living, 
For which their race so long had borne 
Their fellow-creatures' hate and scorn. 
To gain this much desired end, 
E'en the most worthless swore to mend, 
And labour while the days were sunny 
To fill the stores with wax and honey. 
But then — hard work was so unpleasant ! 
And having neither talent present, 



THE BEE AND THE DRONES. 21 

Nor yet experience of the past 
To help their efforts, they at last 
Discovered that their hopes were vain 
In such a way their aim to gain, 
And strove an easier plan to shape, 
From this dilemma to escape. 

There lay beneath a ruined hive 
A dead bee's bones, who, while alive 
Had by his industry and art 
Won a proud place in glory's chart. 
There going, and with mighty pains 
Gathering th' illustrious remains, 
They praised his genius to the skies, 
Paid him the grandest obsequies, 
And o'er his tomb began to hum 
A lofty toned eulogium. 
What noble qualities adorned 
The brother whose decease they mourned ! 
How white the wax his cells displayed ! 
How sweet the honey he had made ! 
Proud of the work, so loud and long 
The chorus buzzed the funeral song, 
That a stout bee who laboured near 
Felt much annoyed the din to hear, 



22 THE BEE AND THE DRONES. 

And, with indignant ire inflamed, 
Came flying up and thus exclaimed : 
" What ! — after all your proclamation, 
Is this the only consummation 
Of such a precious undertaking ? 
One drop of honey of my making 
Is worth a thousand times the hue 
And humming of such things as you." 
Of drone-like mortals, never known 
For wit or wisdom of their own, 
How many in all times and ages 
Have thought to pass for wits and sages, 
By praises in ecstatic tone 
On wits and sages dead and gone, 
And how triumphantly they quote 
Whatever such men said or wrote ; 
But, if their raptures are sincere, 
Just let me whisper in their ear 
A proof of that they well might raise, 
By imitating those they praise. 



23 



THE SHOWMAN'S MONKEY. 

A worthy friar, (alas ! with shame 
I own I have forgot his name,) 
Who racked his brain for pompous words 
To write the lives of beasts and birds, 
Who, upon lofty measures borne, 
Describes the ne'er seen unicorn — 
Who saw an aged phoenix wane — 
Ignite — and burn to youth again — 
And whom a thousand things befel, 
Which here I have not space to tell, 
Narrates (at least it so is said, 
Fori his works have never read,) 
A certain monkey's exhibition 
Which will, I think, bear repetition. 
This monkey, who, the story says, 
Had many pleasant tricks and ways, 
And served a conjuror, one of those 
Who gain applause at fairs and shows, 
One day, his master being out, 
Thought to enjoy himself, no doubt, 



24 the showman's monkey. 

And asked his friends, a chosen few, 
His best performances to view. 

First, he displayed his great command 
Of mimickry and slight-of-hand, 
Next on the slackened cord he swung, 
Then on the tight-rope danced and sprung 
With fearful somerset and leap, 
As if his neck he valued cheap ; 
Of this howe'er, he made but light, 
Resolving to conclude the night 
And finish with eclat the play, 
As always was his master's way, 
With the most splendid of his means — 
The magic-lantern's wondrous scenes. 

First, then, attention to request, 
A brief exordium he address'd, 
Well decked with elocutional graces, 
As is the custom in such cases ; 
Then stood behind the said machine, 
And, as he pass'd the slips between, 
(The slips composed of painted glass 
Contrived within a groove to pass,) 
He, in well-turned and flowery speech, 
Explained the scenes contained in each. 



THE SHOWMAN'S MONKEY. 25 

Now, as was needful for the show, 
The room was darkened, and although 
Straining their eyes, the audience all 
Gazed with attention on the wall, 
None the protentous forms could see 
Which, with such grave solemnity, 
In words from rhetoric's fount imbibed, 
The sage exhibitor described. 
Puzzled at first, they grew offended, 
Thinking an insult was intended, 
And, as indignantly they rose, 
How things had ended Heaven knows ! 
When, in the thickest of the din, 
The master, luckily, came in, 
And having heard the whole affair, 
With half severe, half smiling air, 
" Idiot !" he cried, — " pray, what effect 
Could you from all your words expect, 
When, by your stupid oversight, 
The lantern is without a light ?" 

Ye geniuses refined and pure, 
Who take such pains to be obscure, 
Can you in better way be taught 
That without clearness all is nought ? 



26 



THE BEAR, THE MONKEY, AND THE PIG. 

A Bear, with whom a Piedmontese 

Had voyaged from the Polar seas, 

And by whose strange unweildy gambols 

He earned a living in his rambles, 

One day, upon his hind-legs set, 

Began to dance a minuet. 

At length, being tired, as well he might, 

Of standing such a time upright, 

He to a monkey near advancing, 

Exclaimed : " What think you of my dancing V 

" Really," he said," ahem ! (I'm sure 

This monkey was a connoisseur,) 

To praise it, I 'd indeed be glad, 

Only it is so very bad !" 

" How !" cried the bear, not over pleased, 

" Surely, your j udgment is diseased, 

Or else you cannot well have seen 

My elegance of step and mien ; 



THE BEAR, MONKEY, AND PIG. 27 

Just look again, and say what graces 
You think are wanting in my paces." 
" Indeed, his taste is quite amazing," 
Replied a pig, with rapture gazing ; 
" Bravo ! encore ! well done ! Sir Bear, 
By heaven, you trip as light as air ; 
I vow that Paris never knew 
A dancer, half so fine as you." 

With some confusion, Bruin heard 
Such praises by a pig conferred; 
He communed with himself awhile, 
And muttered thus, in altered style : 
" I must confess the monkey's blame 
Made me feel doubtful of my fame ; 
But since the pigs their praise concede, 
My dancing must be bad, indeed !" 

Form, if you can, a judgment true, 
Authors, on those who judge of you : 
A wise man's blame may make one sad. 
But a fool's praise is twice as bad. 



28 



THE BEAU AND THE PEWTER BUCKLES. 

A dashing beau, whose high renown 
In Paris, filled the court and town : 
Who reigned the arbiter supreme, 
Of fashion's law, and taste's regime; 
Who wore his fifty suits a year, 
And in profusion had no peer, 
In short, who led the Paris ton, — 
One day, put pewter buckles on, 
Wishing to try, in such a way, 
If firmly fixed his honours lay. 

Well, thus attired, he sallied out,— 
I know not whether ball, or rout, 
Was given that night, to celebrate 
The splendours of a royal fete : 
Be what it might, the gay, the fair, 
The noble, and monsieur were there. 
Soon as the new conceit was spied, 
Applauses rung on ev'ry side : 
" The brilliant metal ! how it shines ; 
Brighter than Peru's silver mines ! 



THE GREAT AND THE SMALL BELL. 29 

Long may our court of France be graced, 
By such a master-mind of taste !" 

And let a famous author fill 
A book with all the trash he will, 
And I'll consent to be impaled, 
If it is not with raptures hailed. 



THE GREAT, AND THE SMALL BELL. 

In a cathedral tower, there hung 
A mighty sounding bell, that rung 
On high and solemn days alone, 
In slowest time, and deepest tone : 
Nor did its tolling ever go 
Beyond a dozen strokes, or so ; 
For this, and for its size and sound, 
Its fame had spread the country round. 
Now, in the city's bounds, was rated, 
A hamlet, thinly populated, 
With a poor church, decayed by age, 
Andbelfry like an hermitage, 



30 THE SPORTSMAN AND THE FERRET. 

A small cracked bell, performing there . 
The most important character. 
The villagers, who wished to claim 
For their small bell the great one's fame, 
Resolved the cracked and tinkling thing 
Should likewise slow, and seldom ring, 
Till, with the country folks, at last, 
The small bell for a great one passed ! 

Likely enough, grave looks alone 
Oft veil a fool, and many a one 
Scarce deigns to unclose his lips, and tries 
In such a way, to ape the wise. 



THE SPORTSMAN AND THE FERRET. 

Weary and weak with heat and toil, 
And laden with a heavy spoil, 
After a long and tedious roam, 
A sportsman was returning home. 

The village just appeared in view, 
To which, as joyfully he drew, 



THE SPORTSMAN AND THE FERRET. 31 

He overtook a friend and neighbour, 
Proceeding from his daily labour, 
And, as they chatted on the way, 
Told him the fortunes of the day. 
" I Ve toiled until I 'm almost dead, 
But what of that, my friend ?" he said ; 
" Old as I am at snare and net, 
Such sport as I this day have met 
I ne'er before had luck to obtain, 
And, may-be, never shall again. 
Though since the dawn of day begun, 
I've suffered from a broiling sun, 
But then, a good return I bring ; 
Look at these rabbits, here's a string ! 
I say, and I will say again, 
Fearless of being reckoned vain, 
That, not in fifty miles around, 
So good a sportsman can be found." 
A ferret, slung behind, had heard 
The rabbit-catcher's ev'ry word, 
And, with his sharply pointed snout, 
Above the bag, just peeping out, 
He cried : " Your worship's leave, I pray, 
Be pleased to pardon what I say ; 



32 THE SPORTSMAN AND THE FERRET. 

Why do you thus your talents boast ? 
Surely 't was I who worked the most. 
Those rabbits you so proudly show, 
Who hunted them, Fd like to know ? 
I, to be sure, — I caught them all ; 
And yet are my deserts so small, 
That e'en to speak of them, you shun ? 
Methinks, the least you could have done, 
Had been to make my labours known, 
While thus exulting in your own." 

Some naturally may suppose, 
That, ere the ferret made a close, 
The man confessed his paltry deed, 
And blushed for shame ; — not he, indeed ! 
He stood as careless and serene, 
As writers, pitiful and mean, 
Regardless of all moral law, 
Who from the works of others draw, 
And yet, to their eternal shame, 
Ne'er give their benefactor's name. 



33 



THE MOUSE AND THE CAT. 

That iEsop had a brilliant brain ; 
How rich his moralising strain ! 
What life-drawn incidents we note, 
What happy wit in all he wrote ! 
Perhaps 'twill be no mispent time, 
To put a tale of his in rhyme. 

" Yes," said a sapient mouse, one day, 
u Whate'er philosophers may say, 
Fidelity must be confessed, 
To be of all the virtues best : 
And 't is because his faith I know, 
I love the honest spaniel so." 

" Ay," cried a cat, u most true — most true ; 
But I possess that virtue too." 

" You do indeed ! if that 's the case, 
(Slinking within his hiding place, 
And then, with caution peeping out, 
And turning up in scorn his snout,) 
My admiration passes by — 
It is a worthless quality." 



34 THE OX AND THE BEETLE. 

The attributes, which many deem 
The very best of virtues, seem 
To sink to vices, when they grow 
Within the bosom of a foe. 

And now, Sir Reader, may I ask, 
If I have well performed my task ? 
How does the fable meet your views, 
Does it instruct you, and amuse ? 
" It does indeed, throughout I find 
The marks of iEsop's mighty mind." 
Indeed ! I am glad you do not slight it, 
The more, as iEsop did not write it : 
Within my humble head it grew. 
" The fable, then, is yours ?" 'Tis true : 
And since, as his, it seemed so fine, 
Pray criticise it now, as mine. 



THE OX AND THE BEETLE, 



A beetle once, a paltry worm, 
Whose mind was smaller than her form, 



THE OX AND THE BEETLE. 35 

Called to the ox, who, strong to toil, 
Was ploughing up the stubborn soil : 
" Dear me !'- she cried, in accents shrill, 
" Sure that's a pretty proof of skill ! 
Shame on you, not to know your trade, 
See what a crooked ridge you 've made." 
The ox, amazed, turned gravely round, 
And looking closely on the ground, 
" Ho ! ho ! Ma'am Beetle, is it you !" 
He answered, — " and turned critic too ? 
Do for the future hold your tongue ; 
Suppose that furrow to be wrong, 
Could you have seen the error slight, 
If all the rest had not been right ? 
My master, in a work like this, 
Forgives the little done amiss." 

Look at the accuser, and the accused , 
The ox by vilest grub abused ! 
And can I think that those will fail 
To see the moral of my tale, 
Whose vision, meanly circumspect, 
Sees in great works a small defect 1 



36 



THE FROG AND THE HEN. 

A frog, as floundering he lay, 
Within his native ditch, one day, 
Felt mightily annoyed, to hear 
The cackling from a hen-roost near, 
And hopping straightway to her nest, 
He thus the worthy bird addressed : 
" How now ! good madam, is it you ? 
Believe me, then, I deeply rue, 
That fate has doomed me to the labour 
Of having such a noisy neighbour : 
And after all this cry and chatter, 
Pray will you tell me what 's the matter ?' 
" I've laid an egg," the hen replied, 
" And now announce it far and wide." 
" Only an egg ! and is that all ? 
A pretty cause to boast and bawl !" 
" Only an egg : — but, worthy sir, 
Why 'gainst my voice make such a stir ? 
Since, (so my patient mind endures,) 
I never have complained of your's, 



THE TWO RABBITS. 37 

Though sometimes with disgust I'm choking, 

To hear your everlasting croaking. 

And if I publish what I do, 

I know it is of use ; but you, 

A worthless, useless, bloated breed, 

Might hold your ugly tongues, indeed." 



THE TWO RABBITS. 

As, pressed by dogs, o'er hill and heath 

A rabbit scampered out of breath ; 

A friend, as he his burrow passed, 

Stopped him, and cried, "Ho ! why so fast?" 

" So fast, indeed ! and where's the wonder ? 

See those two scoundrel greyhounds yonder." 

" Ha ! here they come, that's sure, — but stay — 

They are not hounds." — "■ What then, I pray V 

" Setters — if well my eyes descry 'em." 

" Setters ! about as much as I am. 

They're hounds I know, and will not doubt it." 

" They're setters,— you know nought about it." 



38 THE AUTHOR AND THE RAT. 

" They're hounds — upon my soul, they are t" 
" I say they're setters still." — Thus far 
The contest on the point had gone, 
When the two hungry dogs came on, 
Seized on our rabbits, roused too late, 
And quickly settled the debate. 

They who neglect important things 
For vain and captious cavillings, 
Let them to this example turn, 
Think on the rabbits' fate, and learn, 



THE AUTHOR AND THE RAT, 

Up to a learned person's chamber, 

A rat somehow contrived to clamber, 

A cursed rat — who took delight 

In an uncommon appetite ; 

Ne'er, like his whiskered friends, he dined 

On candles, cheese, or bacon rind, 

He could not fancy ( autre chose' 

Than the poor author's verse and prose. 



THE AUTHOR AND THE RAT. 39 

A monstrous cat's incessant watch 
Was all in vain the thief to catch, 
Nor rat-traps of all shapes and sizes, 
Nor arsenic in sweet disguises 
Could cure the creature's inclination 
For literary devastation, 
For gnawing works admired by sages, 
And making sieves of scores of pages. 

The author, in this dire distress, 
Sent prose and poetry to press ; 
But if before the noxious beast 
On manuscript had made a feast, 
It soon appeared that printed letter 
Suited his palate even better. 
" Was ever man so plagued before V 
The victim cried, " I'll write no more, 
To have my works thus gnawed to pieces. 
Here, then, my luckless labour ceases, 
And henceforth will I never place 
Aught but blank paper in my case." 
Alas ! the hateful vermin still 
Devoured e'en that with right good-will. 

Our writer's temper grew morose, 
So, mixing a sufficient dose, 



40 THE MUSICAL ASS. 

He in the common ink he used 
Corrosive sublimate infused ; 
Then wrote again, I know not what — 
Or verse or prose — it matters not : 
The Rat once more to eat begun, 
And burst ere half his meal was done. 

A good receipt — let authors bear 
With criticisms just and fair, 
But when malignant censors loose 
Their indiscriminate abuse, 
Not to reply in terms severe 
Shows little judgement, or much fear. 
And let those too, whose only care 
Is to devour and gnaw, beware, — 
Lest, some day, unawares they drink, 
Like this stout rat, corrosive ink. 



THE MUSICAL ASS. 



An ass, with leisure step, one day, 
Through the green meadows took his way - % 



THE MUSICAL ASS. 41 

An epicure he was, no doubt, 
And, as he wandered, looked about 
With something like a hope to find 
A salad of the thistle kind. 
Thus straying on, the pensive brute 
Found, lying in his path, a flute, 
An instrument of fashion fair ; 
Some careless swain had dropped it there, 
Now, what it was, he could not tell ; 
So, as he stooped his head to smell, 
And rested on the mouth his chin, 
He breathed by accident within, 
And lo ! a most melodious sound 
Was echoed in the air around. 
" Dear me !" the ass was heard to say, 
" How very charmingly I play ! 
And yet how many may we find 
Who blame the music of our kind." 
Tis thus the dullest dolts of men 
If they're successful now and then, 
Place it to talents of their own, 
And not to merest chance alone. 



42 



THE DROMEDARY AND THE OSTRICH. 

A club of animals, one day, 

Had met to pass the time away 

(For brutes too have their clubs and cronies) 

In learned conversaziones. 

Their fellow-creatures' parts and worth 
Gave to a long discussion birth ; 
Some praised the structure of the bee, 
Others the dog's fidelity ; 
Some liked the ant, and not a few 
Admired the parrot's voice and hue. 

" For me/' the ostrich said, " I call 
The'dromedary first of all :" 
" And," cried the dromedary, " ne'er, 
A nobler than the ostrich there, 
Within the animal dominion, 
E'er raised a paw or waved a pinion." 

What were the motives none could deem, 
For this reciprocal esteem : 
Was it that nature both bedecks 
With bulky forms and lengthy necks ? 



THE ANT AND THE FLEA. 43 

Or because stupid is the one, 

And th'other not with sense o'erdone ? 

Because they're ugly both — no question ? 

Or because both have good digestion ? 

Or because — " No," the fox exclaimed, 

" The reason has not yet been named ; 

I penetrate their views in raising 

This basely mutual be- praising ; 

My friends, the illustrious ' fratrum par ' 

Of the same country natives are." 

Both were in fact of Moorish breed, 
And so the fox guessed well indeed. 
I, too, amongst our literaries, 
Know ostriches and dromedaries, 
Who echo one another's fame, 
From motives pretty much the same. 



THE ANT AND THE FLEA. 



Some persons have a way of claiming 
All knowledge that is worth the naming, 



44 THE ANT AND THE FLEA. 

Men, who, whate'er they hear and see, 
However new and rare it be, 
Meet it with some contemptuous phrasing, 
To spare themselves the pain of praising. 
Now, by the life of me ! this class 
Shall not from my inspection pass 
Without a fable with them taking, 
Although it be a day in making. 

An ant once told the flea, her neighbour, 
The effects of all her skill and labour ; 
Described the structure of her dwelling, 
Explaining every part, and telling 
The uses of each separate story — 
The granary — the dormitory — 
Shewed with what ease they store the spoil 
By due division of the toil, 
With other things, which feigned or fabled 
Might seem, if we were not enabled, 
By study and experience due, 
To know and hold them all as true. 

The flea, to all this information 
Vouchsafed no other observation, 
Than sentences like these — ha, — so, — 
I understand, — of course, — I know, — ■ 



THE PELLITORY AND THE THYME. 45 

No doubt, — 'tis clear, — quite obvious that — 
I don't see much to wonder at. 

" Then," said the ant, " I wish, my friend, 
That you would so far condescend, 
As for our help to let us see 
A proof of your proficiency ; 
You speak in such a master-tone, 
T'would be no sooner said than done." 
The flea, with impudence ashamed, 
Cut a light caper, and exclaimed : 
u Surely you do not mean to doubt 
My skill to work such trifles out ; 
'Tis but to apply oneself, — but stay — 
I am busy now — another day." 



THE PELLITORY AND THE THYME, 

I've read, but where, I cannot say, 
That, in the herbal tongue, one day, 
The pellitory, thinking fit 
Upon the thyme to try her wit, 



46 THF PELLITORY AND THE THYME. 

Accosted him, and then began 

Her speech on this malicious plan : 

" God help thee thyme ! it grieves my soul, 

That thou, Jhe sweetest of the whole 

Sweet-smelling tribes that bloom around 

Art scarce three inches from the ground." 

" Fair one," he answered, " I confess 

That I am small ; bat ne'ertheless 

Remember that I grow alone, 

Without the help of any one, 

While you, my dear, can't grow at all 

Unless you cling fast to a wall." 

When, on all sides, I see upspringing, 
Men, who, to other writers clinging, 
Think themselves authors, when they've wrote 
A prologue, preface, or a note, 
I feel a mighty inclination 
To apply to them the thyme's oration. 



47 



THE MAGISTRATE AND THE ROBBER. 

It happened, once upon a time, 
A robber, stained with every crime, 
Was taken in the very act 
As a poor traveller he attacked. 

" Unhappy wretch !" the judge began, 
Whose place it was to try the man, 
" Hast thou no sorrow for thy guilt — 
No horror for the blood thou'st spilt?" 

<( Not I, my lord," the culprit cried, 
" I think of all my deeds with pride ; 
For, from my birth, as I may say, 
I've been a sinner in some way ; 
E'en in my childhood's earliest part, 
I gave some signs of future art, — 
Stole cloaks and watches — swords and rings- 
Wrenched locks, scaled walls, and such like things, 
Till what I now am, I became — 
A robber of unrivalled name ; 
So that your worship surely doats, 
To wonder at my cutting throats ! 



48 THE BEE AND THE CUCKOO. 

And, let me say, I think it hard 
Thus from my trade to be debarred, 
(Merely to calm some persons' fears,) 
A trade I've followed forty years. 

If this assassin's boast we blame, 
Do not those authors say the same, 
Who gloss their faults with this excuse, 
That they are sanctified by use — 
Opposing such a poor pretence 
To all the law r s of taste and sense. 



THE BEE AND THE CUCKOO. 

A cuckoo, near a hive, one day, 
Was chaunting in his usual way, 
When to the door the queen-bee ran, 
And, humming angrily, began : 
" Do cease that tuneless song I hear, — 
How can we w r ork while thou art near ? 
There is no other bird, I vow, 
Half so fantastical as thou, 



THE BEE AND THE CUCKOO. 49 

Since all that ugly voice can do, 
Is to sing on — cuckoo ! cuckoo !" 

" If my monotony of song 
Displeases you, shall I be wrong," 
The cuckoo answered, " if I find 
Your comb as little to my mind ? 
Look at the cells — through every one 
Does not unvaried sameness run ? 
Then if in me there's nothing new, 
God knows, all's old enough in you." 

The bee replied — " Hear me, my friend, 
In works that have an useful end, 
It is not always worth the while 
To seek variety in style, 
But if those works whose only views 
Are to give pleasure and amuse, 
Want either fancy or invention, 
They fail of gaining their intention." 



50 



THE CAT AND THE LIZARD. 

Some animals are scientific 
In use of nostrum and specific, 
Know how, by vegetable suction 
To assist th'organical construction ; 
And as for skill in things botanical, 
No obstacle their art can manacle, — 
They'll tell each plant's remedial nature, 
And, in the herbal nomenclature, 
Will class narcotics — diuretics — 
Cathartics — styptics — and emetics — 
With febrifuges — and prolifics — 
Cephalics too — and sudorifics. 

A certain cat, I've heard narrated, 
Who in this branch had graduated, 
Who was both theorist and practician, 
And an amazing rhetorician, 
Using of words an architecture, 
Worthy a sage professor's lecture, 
Once to a shrewd old lizard crept, 
Who for dried herbs a warehouse kept, 



THE CAT AND THE LIZARD. 51 

And cried, " Ah me ! these pangs mortiferous ! 
I want some simples salutiferous ; 
To ease these turgencies hydropical 
I'll chew some juices heliotropical." 

The lizard heard his patient ramble 
Through this ineffable preamble, 
But, dazzled by the coruscation 
From such a brilliant declamation, 
No more to guess the sense was able 
Than if he'd spoke in tongue of Babel ; 
And knew not what to say or do, — 
Until the cat impatient grew, 
Upon some leaves of sun-flowers fell, 
And with them filled his ventricle. 
The lizard watched him for a while, 
And then, with something like a smile, 
" Ho ! ho !" he cried, "my lord hydropical, 
So those are juices heliotropical !" 

And shall we wonder, when we hear 
That a poor cricket, who was near, 
The macaronic diction heard, 
Nor understood a single word, 
Yet raised in ecstasy her eyes, 
And praised the doctor to the skies. 



52 THE LACE-MAKERS. 

No wonder is it, — I could name 
Many who think and act the same, 
And ever ready to revile 
A plain and smoothly flowing style ; 
Since, then, this worthy class prefers 
Such hyperbolic metaphors, 
With diabolical digressions, 
And unpronounceable expressions, 
With which they ever make invasion, 
Careless what nonsense they occasion 
This tale euphonious and mystic, 
Must win their notice eulogistic. 



THE LACE-MAKERS. 

A manufacturer, who made 
The gold and silver lace his trade, 
Had for his very next door neighbour, 
A woman whose incessant labour 
Was working lace of Brussels kind, 
For ladies' ornament designed. 



THE LACE-MAKERS. 53 

" How strange it is," he once exclaimed, 
" That of the flimsy stuff you've framed, 
Two yards a greater sum obtain 
Than ten of mine will ever gain ; 
And most unjustly are they sold, 
For your's is flax and mine is gold." 
" Good sir," she cried, " you need not wonder, 
That lace like mine should keep your's under, 
For though, as you have justly told, 
I work in flax and you in gold, 
This will but stronger proof impart 
How much material yields to art." 
Ye who neglect as mean and vile 
The help and ornament of style, 
And an unmixed devotion own 
To matter and ideas alone ; 
Observe, that if the thread despised 
Above e'en gold itself is prized, 
Tis because elegance and skill 
Can change all things to what they will. 



64 



THE LION AND THE EAGLE. 

The lion and the eagle met 

In solemn conference, to set 

Some matters right, that crossed the intents 

Of their respective governments. 

Against the bat, the eagle laid 

A long and heavy charge, and said : 

" Why should this nondescript create 

Misunderstandings in the state ? 

Oft 'midst my subjects he has come, 

And claimed as if by right a home, 

A thousand arguments he brings, 

And, above all, he shews his wings; 

But, when he chooses, thus he'll speak : 

' Mine is a snout, and not a beak, 

And if you dare for any cause 

To make me subject to your laws, 

Then be the peril on your head — 

For, look you, I'm a quadruped.' 

When 'mongst my vassals, he'll complain 

Of the excesses of your reign, 



THE CRIPPLES. 55 



And when with you he lives, he shower: 
All sorts of calumnies on our ours." 

" Tis well," the lion said, " I swear 
He never more shall breathe the air 
Of my dominions," — " Nor of mine, 
I vow by all my royal line." 
Since then, an exiled outcast grown, 
We see the bat by night alone ; 
For neither quadruped nor bird, 
Will now with such a comrade herd. 

Ye literary bats ! who strive 
Deceiving all, with all to live, 
To wear the hide, and feather too — 
This fable I inscribe to you. 



THE CRIPPLES. 

A man, by nature, deaf and dumb, 
Once to a blind friend's house had come, 
To talk some private business over, 
Though what, I never could discover. 



56 THE CRIPPLES. 

He who was blind, his thoughts expressed 

By signs which th' other quickly guessed ; 

But when he made the same endeavour, 

The blind man was as wise as ever. 

While thus perplexingly involved 

In this dilemma, they resolved 

To seek a mutual friend of both, — 

A worthy man he was in troth, 

But sadly maimed, in some hot fray 

His right hand had been shot away. 

What one by signs and gestures said 

He into words interpreted, 

Forming a ready medium 

Between the blind man and the dumb. 

Thus for some time, with pro and con, 
The curious trialogue went on, 
Till they determined 'twould be better 
To settle the affair by letter. 
" I'm sorry, sirs," exclaimed the friend, 
" That my poor powers will not extend 
To write the letter you demand, 
Seeing I've lost my writing hand. 
But fair and softly, let me see, 
Suppose we ask the Dominie ? 



THE CRIPPLES. 57 

Let some one to his dwelling go 
He'll come full readily I know." 
" Brother, how thoughtlessly you talk ! 
How should he come who cannot walk ?" 
The man who could not see exclaimed, 
" You know how dreadfully he's lamed. 
T would be by far the better way, 
For us to go to him, I say/' 
And so they did, and in the end, 
He who was lame the letter penned, 
The blind man and the maimed together, 
Dictated, as he plied the feather, 
And the dumb comrade was elected, 
To leave the epistle as directed. 

Now, for their purpose, if not one, 
Two ordinary men had done, 

But halt — maimed — deaf — and dumb— and blind, 
The four scarce served the use designed. 
And, were it not that hundreds live, 
Who can their testimony give, 
How, in a certain town, the case 
I have related, once took place, 
Many, no doubt, would be suspicious 
That the whole story was fictitious, 



58 THE OWL AND THE LAMP, ETC. 

And that I wished to show in rhyme, 

The silly loss of toil and time, 

Which almost always happens, when 

A knot of literary men, 

Joint authors, 'mongst themselves, unite 

A work to edite or to write. 

Each wants some needful requisite 

Of language, power, style, or wit, 

And each the other's aid expects, 

To hide his failings and defects. 



THE OWL AND THE LAMP — THE DOGS AND THE 
BONE-GRUBBER. 

Some critics wait, with prudent care, 
Coward assassins that they are, — 
Until their hapless victim dies, 
Before against his fame they rise ; 
For living authors have a sting, 
Which they may use in answering. 



THE OWL AND THE LAMP, ETC. 59 

A tale, which suits such persons well, 

My good old grand am used to tell. 

By chance an owl, (I've heard her say,) 

Entered a convent hall one day — 

I'm wrong — one day it could not be, 

No doubt, full many a degree 

Had sunk the flaming charioteer 

Beneath the western hemisphere. 

Be that however false or true, 

As through the passages she flew, 

A lamp, or lantern, I forget 

Which 'twas, the bird of wisdom met, 
And, turning suddenly about, 
To this effect she hooted out, 
" Lamp ! with what ecstacy divine, 
Would I suck up that oil of thine ! 
Did not thy flame so fiercely rise, 
And with its radiance blind my eyes. 
But, though I dare not venture now 
Upon thy well trimmed light, I vow, 
If I some future day return, 
When thou art out and cannot burn, 
Boldly thy harmless wick I'll pull, 
And have a sumptuous belly-full !" 



60 THE MAID AND THE BROOM. 

Now though the critics whom I lash 
Resent my liberty, they gnash 
Their literary teeth in vain, — 
Have at their worships once again ! — 
Here is a tale with touches rife, 
Which draw their portrait to the life. 
A dealer then, in bones and rags, 
Was grubbing up, to fill his bags, 
A dunghill or some other place, 
When two of Cerberus's race 
Barked at him, as they always do 
When fellows of his stamp they view ; 
" Leave the poor wretch," exclaimed their sire, 
" He is too worthless for your ire, — 
A mastiff dead he'll skin, but flees 
Whene'er a living one he sees." 



THE MAID AND THE BROOM. 



A maid was sweeping out a room 
With a decayed and worn out-broom ; 



THE PEACOCK AND THE CROW. 61 

" A murrain take such filthy things !" 
She grumbled ; " sure the dirt it brings 
In dust and fragments, leaves the floor 
In worse condition than before." 

The modern critic, who corrects 
What to his wisdom seem defects 
In ancient authors' prose and verse, 
Not seldom leaves them ten times worse ; 
Far be it from me to speak his doom, 
But let him think himself the broom ; 
The words which from the servant fell, 
Perhaps may suit him quite as well. 



THE PEACOCK AND THE CROW, 

A peacock and a crow, one day, 
(I vouch the truth of what I say,) 
Exchanged a challenge, and agreed 
To make a trial of their speed. 

Now, which first lighted on the place, 
Fixed for the limit of the race, 



62 THE PEACOCK AND THE CROW. 

He'll guess, with certainty, in troth, 

Who knows the qualities of both. 

" Stop !" cried the peacock, vexed to find 

The crow was leaving him behind ; 

" Hear what I think of you at least — 

You are a black and ugly beast !" 

The crow held calmly on his flight — 

"Hark!" screamed the other, hoarse with spite, 

And at his voice's utmost stretch, — 

" You are a vile ill-omened wretch ! 

I loath the very sight, I do, 

Of such a filthy swine as you ; 

Pray how long is it since you fed, 

Upon the bodies of the dead ?" 

" I do not see, upon my soul," 

Exclaimed the crow, and reached the goal, 

" That what you say has aught to do 

With the dispute between us two, 

Since the sole point we now contest, 

Is which of us can fly the best." 

When in the wise man's works, in vain 
A fool has sought defect or stain, 
He wreaks his envious indignation 
In personal vituperation. 



63 



THE ZOOLOGIST AND THE LIZARDS. 

Upon a garden's sunny side, 

A sage zoologist espied 

Two lizards once — he seized the prize, 

And bore them home to anatomize. 

The plumper one, (for one was slim) 
He takes and slaughters limb by limb, 
The microscope he next applies — 
Observes the head — the tail — the eyes, — 
Pores o'er each part — without — within — 
Back — legs — intestines — 'belly — skin. 
He takes his pen, then looks once more, 
Writes a few lines, and reads them o'er, 
And, when his notes are full and plain, 
Turns to the butchery again. 
While yet his zeal is quite alive, 
Some virtuoso friends arrive, 
To whom he shows what he has written ; 
Some are with admiration smitten — 
Some hear with coldness his reflections — 
While others doubt and raise objections. 



64 THE ZOOLOGIST AND THE LIZARDS. 

The anatomizing mania pass'd, 
Our friend began to find, at last, 
He'd had enough of lizards ; so 
He let the slim survivor go. 
Soon as her ancient haunts she found, 
The neighbours all came flocking round, 
And she proceeded to declare, 
The whole unheard and strange affair. 
"There's not a doubt," she thus went on,- 
" With my own eyes I saw it done, — 
I saw the man a whole day bend, 
Above the carcase of our friend : 
Who calls us reptiles now ? how long 
Shall we submit to such a wrong, 
When we have qualities, inviting 
Such eager search, such careful writing ? 
My noble brethren — give not way ! 
They value us, whate'er they say." 

And miserable authors, who 
Are treated thus, will think thus too ; 
Such men much honour does befall, 
If they are criticised at all. 
A superficial view and slight 
Befits the nonsense that they write,— 



THE EGGS. 65 



To fuss about a lizard's worth, 

But tempts these reptiles of the earth 

With arrogance to shout away : 

" They value us, whate'er they say." 



THE EGGS. 



'Tis said, that in a certain isle, 

Lying, due eastward, many a mile 

Beyond the straits of Borneo, 

(The name of which I do not know, 

Nor do I wish to search it out, 

It had some name, I do not doubt,) 

There ne'er was seen an egg, or hen, 

Until some foreign merchantmen, 

Who on the coast had chanced to touch, 

Left them some fowls, which bred so much, 

That eggs, ere long, so plenteous were, 

As to become the common fare. 

At first, they eat them only boiled, 

Nor after finer cookery toiled ; 



66 THE EGGS. 

For this, the best and simplest mode, 
The strangers who had left them, showed. 

This state of things could not endure ; 
So, when a well-known epicure 
Invented fritters, it is said, 
Applauses rained upon his head : 
But scarce this fancy had been broached, 
When lo ! another eat them poached. 
Blest thought ! what praises did it earn ! 
Yet, before long, it fell in turn, 
For, worthy of immortal fame, 
The pancake and the omelet came. 
All owned eggs then were eggs indeed ! 
Nor thought improvement could succeed ; 
But scarce a year had passed away, 
When an old gourmand cried, one day ; 
" Dolts that ye are, a dish to praise, 
Cooked in such unsubstantial ways ; 
Eat them with bacon, as I do." 
The hint through all the kitchens flew, 
And the new fashion, for a while, 
Made quite a ferment in the isle. 
But as, with looks serene and calm, 
The gourmand thought he'd won the palm, 



THE EGGS. 67 

A stranger tore it from his brow, 

By buttered eggs, which reign e'en now. 

Now if the fancy ranged so high 
In plain and common cookery. 
How can I task my recollections 
With all the elegant confections, 
Which, in their turn, applauses won ? 
Custards and creams, — eggs, whipt and spun, 
Conserves, and syrup, and sherbet, 
And many more, which I forget. 
All claimed the praise of something new, 
And all gained honours more than due, 
Until a sage his satire bent, 
To dissipate their self-content. 
" My friends," the censor cried, one day, 
" For cooking in outlandish way 
The merit may be other men's ; 
But I praise him who brought us hens." 

If I my j udgment may declare, 
I often think we well could spare 
Some hundred modern authors, who 
Only in name and type are new ; — 
Perhaps it might be worth their while, 
To fritter eggs, in some such isle. 
f2 



68 



THE FROGS AND THE BULRUSHES. 



Where Tagus rolls his golden flood, 

A frog, of small experience, stood 

Praising the rushes growing there, 

Hov7 strong, and smooth, and green, they were ! 

It chanced, just then, a wind there blew, 

That snapped the tallest rush in two : 

The frog's wise mother hopped up to it, 

And called her son to come and view it. 

" You see," she said, <e how wrong it is 

To j udge from outward qualities : 

Without, 'tis round and smooth enough, 

Within, all emptiness and puff." 

If this sage frog had read some rhymes 
Which pass for poems in our times, 
I know not how she could express, 
In better terms, their worthlessness. 



69 



THE OILMAN'S ASS. 

A certain ass, whose daily toil 

A man employed, who dealt in oil, 

Bearing a load not over light, 

Had reached his home one pitch-dark night ; 

Right glad to know his work was done, 

Straight to his stall he made a run, 

Never observed the door was barred, 

And struck his head a blow so hard, 

That, stunned, and frightened with the wound, 

He fell half lifeless to the ground. 

" Unhappy me!" he cried, " good lack ! 

With alj this oil upon my back, 

How hard it is, I am not able 

To have one light within my stable !" 

I fear this tale may give offence 
To some, who no sort of expense 
Of time, and cash, and labour heed, 
In buying books they never read. 



70 THE PARROT, THE JAY, AND THE MAGPIE. 

They'll be offended ? let them be — 
But why they should I scarcely see, 
For ere they treat my fables so, 
They must peruse them — will they ? No. 



THE PARROT, THE JAY, AND THE MAGPIE. 

A jay, who heard a parrot speaking, 
Instead of man's instruction seeking, 
To learn the idiom, preferred 
The lessons of the ill-taught bird, 
And, after only one rehearsal 
Finding her words and accents terse all, 
Believed she had no more to learn 
And taught the magpie in her turn ; 
As for the magpie — she, they say, 
Acquired about as much as they, 
Who seek to gain their information 
From a base copy or translation. 



THE PORTRAIT. 

No doubt, it is a style unmeet, 
That foreign phrase and eke conceit 
Should with our native tongue combine, 
But sooth, lest any should opine 
That I would perad venture praise 
The style yclept of olden days, 
I will a tale, right merrie, sing, 
And, that it may unto him bring 
The greater pleasaunce and content, 
Of sayings old and new yblent. 

A portrait painter could not see 
Withouten some small j ealousie, 
The paintings of the masters old — 
How much they pleased — how high they sold, 
And deemed it would be worth his while 
To imitate their touch and style. 
It fortuned that a noble wight, 
Of lofty rank and titles bright, 
Upon a time applied to him 
Deftly his portrait for to limn. 



72 THE PORTRAIT 

And he, who long had sought in vain 
Such opportunity, would fain 
In dress right ancient — well-away ! 
His lordship's lineaments pourtray, 
Woting, he should by such a deed 
Obtain the greater praise and meed. 

Panting with hopes that never ceased, 
To be a Vandyck at the least, 
Soon as upon the form and face 
His brush had put the final grace, 
He dressed them, not in wonted wise, 
But in the very quaintest guise, 
And eftsoons to my lord it bore, 
Who slightly glanced the picture o'er 
And wax'ed wondrous strange I ween ! 
To view the draperies loose and sheen 
Which round about his body fell, 
Albeit the likeness pleased him well. 
Forthy, he cast about, to pay 
The painter in his proper way : 
It happened he had long possessed, 
Close hoarded in an oaken chest, 
Old monies, of but little stead, 
From his forbears inherited ; 



THE PORTRAIT. 73 

Some were scarce silver coins of Rome — 

Some of our whilome kings at home — 

Of divers fashion, such we find 

Our Henrys and our Edwards coined ; 

Groats — nobles — marks — and angels too — 

Nay, an I be acquainted true, 

Some shillings which th' historian names 

Made current by the second James, 

What time, exiled from England's throne, 

In Erin's isle he fought his fone. 

A purse of these, all staid and grave 
The courtier to the painter gave. 

" Fair sir," the latter, stounded, cried, 
Soon as he saw the coins inside, 
" If with the~se medals I should hie 
Forth to the market food to buy, 
Certes, small weight my back would bend, 
As homeward, jeered at, I should wend." 

" Perdie !" the other strait returned, 
" I pay you in the coin you've earned, 
Sith you have dight my form about 
With garments erst genteel, no doubt, 
But which, in our days, no one wears 
Save mountebanks at shows and fairs : 



74 THE PORTRAIT. 

Take back the picture, and, strait way, 
Change all the costume as I say ; 
Cut down these draperies to a coat — 
Tear that great collar from my throat — 
And place instead a white cravat ; 
Next take the feather from the hat — 
Lessen the brim, and doff full soon 
The ancient hose, and turned -up shoon ; 
And, in their stead, be pleased to put 
Breeches and pumps of modern cut. 
Last, change that great two-handed sword 
To rapier fit for courtly lord ; 
For by my ancestry, I vow, 
That, as you have arrayed me now, 
None of my friends could recognize 
My features under such disguise : 
This done — your meed shall straight be told 
In modern coined and current gold." 
Now if this worthy painter's whim 
Provoketh us to laugh at him, 
Natheless, we may as justly smile 
When modern poets mix their style 
With many an old affected phrase, 
Which sounded well in by-gone days. 



THE TWO THRUSHES. 75 

Doubtless, they such conceive to be 
All nature and simplicity, 
Nor care to make their sense obscure 
So that they have the language pure — 
And think those words must sweetly chime 
Which pleased the ears of Arthur's time. 



THE TWO THRUSHES. 

A sage old thrush was once discipling 

His son-in-law, a hair-brained stripling, 

In the purveying art ; he knew, 

He said, where vines in plenty grew, 

Whose fruit delicious, if he'd come, 

He might devour ad libitum. 

" Ha ! fruit ! — and is it good, I pray ? 

My honoured sir, do show the way." 

" Come, then, my son," the old one cried, 

" I to the spot will be your guide — 

You can't imagine what a treat — 

Such fruit it is — so plump ! — so sweet !" 



76 THE TWO THRUSHES. 

He said, and, gliding through the air, 
They reached the vines, and halted there. 

Soon as the grapes the youngster spied, 
" Is this the fruit you praise ?" he cried — 
" Why — an old bird, sir, as you are, 
Should judge, I think, more wisely far, 
Than to admire, or hold as good 
Such half-grown — small — and worthless food ; 
Come, see a fruit which long I've known, 
In yonder garden, and you'll own 
That not without some cause I sneer 
At your poor, dwarfish, berries here." 
" Well !" said the other — " lead the way, 
But I'll my head and feathers lay, 
Before I see it, 'twill be found 
Not worth those skins upon the ground." 
They reached the spot the youth had named, 
And he triumphantly exclaimed, 
" Show me the fruit to equal mine — 
A size so great — a shape so fine — 
Now — now — your silly taste confess." 
It was a — pumpkin ! nothing less. 

Now, that a thrush should take this fancy, 
Without much marvelling I can see, 



THE TOAD AND THE OWL. 77 

But it is truly monstrous, when 
Men, who are held as learned men, 
All books, whate'er they be, despise, 
Unless of largest bulk and size ; 
A book is great, if good at all, 
If bad - it cannot be too small. 



THE TOAD AND THE OWL, 

An owl from public notice shrunk, 
Half buried in the hollow trunk 
Of a decayed and aged tree ; 
Whom as a toad once chanced to see, 
Up to the root he slowly crawled, 
And thus impertinently bawled : 
" Ho ! Madam Melancholy, there — 
Why thus d'ye shun the sun and air ? 
Vouchsafe your countenance to show, 
For what it is I'd like to know." 
" Sir, I do not," the owl replied, 
" Myself upon my beauty pride, 



78 THE ASS AND HIS MASTER. 

And 'tis for this I have the grace, 
During the day, to hide my face ; 
But you, Sir Toad, who will display 
Your ugly loathsome form by day, 
T' would be as well, upon my soul, 
If you were in another hole." 
Alas ! how pitiful a price, 
We authors put on such advice — 
Ever to print and publish mad, 
Whether the work be good or bad — 
Perhaps too bad to see the light — 
But ah ! my friends, such thoughts we slight, 
And public toads had rather be, 
Than owls, and in obscurity. 



THE ASS AND HIS MASTER. 

" The blockhead public values still, 
At the same worth both good and ill, 
My pen the taste depraved obeys, 
And writes its worst, secure of praise." 



THE ASS AND HIS MASTER. 79 

A playright, of the lowest station, 
Poured forth, one day, this declamation, 
Excusing, under such pretence, 
His own defects and want of sense ; 
But a shrewd poet who was nigh, 
Approached and made him this reply : 
" A man, I know not what his class, 
Or rich — or poor — possessed an ass ; 
He made him bear — he made him draw — 
But gave him nought to eat but straw, 
And, as he gave it, always cried, 
' Eat —since with this you're satisfied.' 
The patient beast bore all awhile; 
At length his master roused his bile, 
So oft the self- same thing declaring ; 
'Twas e'en beyond an ass's bearing ! 
So, as he took his straw, one day, 
He thus, with boldness, said his say : 
' I eat, because I wish to live, 
Whatever you may choose to give ; 
But why the unjust conclusion draw, 
That therefore I prefer your straw ? 
Give me some corn to nibble at, 
And see if I don't relish that.' " 



80 THE COCK AND HIS COMBATS. 

Beware, ye authors, how ye blame 
The public taste to veil your shame ; 
You give her straw, perforce she chews it ; 
Try her with com, — she'll not refuse it. 



THE COCK AND HIS COMBATS 

A haughty cock, who thought, no doubt, 

That he was mighty brave, fell out 

(It was a quarrel of his picking) 

With a young sturdy bantam chicken. 

Such high words passed between the two, 

That both at last indignant flew, 

Flapped, pecked, and spurred, like fiends of hell, 

And the young dunghill fought so well, 

He quickly made the other yield 

The battle, and the battle-field. 

" Hem !" said the conquered sultan, sneering, 

(But not till he was out of hearing,) 

u He'll make no bad a cock, I vow, 

The little fellow's youthful now." 



THE VIPER AiSD THE LEECH. 81 

He never fought that chicken more, 

But, from an ancient grudge he bore 

Against an aged cock, whose scars 

Showed him a veteran in the wars, 

Our champion challenged him, one day, 

And got so worsted in the fray, 

That, with the two defeats together. 

He was quite stripped of comb and feather : 

As, thus defaced in every feature, 

He slunk away — "The poor old creature !" 

He muttered, " limb by limb I'd tear him — 

Only he doats, and so I spare him." 

In strife of literary kind, 
Authors, this lesson bear in mind — 
With whomsoever you engage, 
Judge not their talents by their age. 



THE VIPER AND THE LEECH. 

" Dear sister Leech," the viper cried, 
Gently approaching to her side, 



82 THE VIPER AND THE LEECH. 

' Since you, like me, bite when you can, 
Why does unjust and partial man 
So differently treat the two ? 
Submitting to be bit by you, 
Yet shunning me with hate and fear, 
And shuddering, if I come but near." 
" Brother," replied the leech, " you're right, 
In saying that we both do bite : 
But, as 'tis easy to detect, 
With very different effect. 
My mouth a healing virtue gives, 
I bite the dying man, he lives : 
While, and you know it to be true, 
The healthiest dies, if touched by you." 
Observe, ye readers, then, and writers, 
That critics, doubtless, all are biters ; 
Yet that a wide distinction runs 
Twixt useful, and malignant ones. 



83 



THE BEETLE. 

I've such a subject for a tale ! 

But ah ! sometimes the muse will fail, 

And mine, I know not how it is, 

Seems in her freaks and fantasies ; 

Wherefore I give my tale to him, 

Whose mind may be in better trim. 

For writing fables such as these, 

Requires a certain art and ease, 

In rhythm, and measures smooth and terse, 

To hide the labour of the verse ; 
And this facility admired, 
Comes not as often as required. 

Well, let a beetle have the glory 
Of being the hero of the story, 
For, to preserve the moral's style, 
The hero must be low and vile. 
Now those who know this creature's ways, 
See that on vilest things he preys ; 
Eats any filth that chance bestows, 
Yet turns with loathing from the rose. 
g2 



84 THE GOAT AND THE HORSE. 

And here the author should commence, 
With all his powers of eloquence, 
To tell us what the cause may be 
For such a strange antipathy. 
But then, to show the reasons clear 
For making the allusion here, — 
Ah ! how his hapless head must ache, 
Unless his wits are quite awake. 

Thus rhyming on, with, now and then, 
A figure flowing from his pen, 
He'll end, unless the truth he miss, 
With some such summing up as this : 
That as the rose, so sweetly graced, 
Is odious to a beetle's taste : 
So fancies pleasing and refined, 
Disgust a coarse and Gothic mind. 



THE GOAT AND THE HORSE. 

A goat, one day, was drinking in 
The music of a violin, 



THE GOAT AJND THE HOUSE. 85 

Which, struck by some harmonious bow, 
Re-echoed from the vale below ; 
Enchanted, to the gentle sound 
Her feet kept time upon the ground. 
It chanced a certain horse was near, 
Whose head thrown back, and pricked up ear, 
Showed that he likewise listening stood, 
Absorbed, and thoughtless of his food ; 
Whom, on the music's lengthened rest, 
The goat advancing, thus addressed : 

" Hear you the sounds so soft, that flow 
From yonder violin ? — then know, 
Those strings did once the belly line, 
Of a late dear-loved friend of mine. 
Oh ! may I hope as blest a fate 
Will at some time myself await, 
When my intestines too may please, 
With cadences as sweet as these !" 

The nag turned round, and thus replied : 
" I think those strings from your inside, 
Which you so highly prize, would be 
Of little value, but for me. 
What but my tail the hairs affords, 
Which wake the else all-silent chords ? 



86 THE PURCHASE OF THE ASS. 

The anguish which I underwent, 
I think no more of now, content 
To see how useful they are found, 
In bringing forth so sweet a sound. 
But you, — I think you have not said 
What pleasure you will feel, when dead." 

Bad authors thus, who vainly strive 
To gain applause, while yet alive, 
Trust to posterity for praise, 
And wear prospectively the bays. 



THE PURCHASE OF THE ASS. 

An ass, one day, passed through the street, 
So gay an ass 'tis rare to meet, 
His saddle, and his halter too, 
Were both, to all appearance, new ; 
Ribbons of yellow, and of red, 
With tufts and tassels, decked his head, 
With plaits, rosettes, and bows as well, 
And here and there was hung a bell, 



THE PURCHASE OF THE ASS. 87 

Which, as he slowly trotted by, 
Jingled together merrily. 

It seems this jewel of a beast 
Had once, (so I was told, at least,) 
Been numbered 'mongst the roving stud, 
Of a shrewd knave of gipsey blood, 
(A race, whatever else their worth, 
Not the most honest upon earth ;) 
And he had managed, as they can, 
To trick an unsuspecting man, 
Who, dazzled with the brilliant dress, 
Purchased the ass with eagerness ; 
Nor even tried the creature's paces, 
As is most prudent in such cases. 
That he found reasons for repentance, 
Appears from a succeeding sentence. 

Soon as he reached his poor abode, 
He to his friends and neighbours showed 
The famous purchase he had made, 
And all the ornaments displayed. 
" Upon my word, 'tis very fine," 
One made reply ; " but, comrade mine, 
Suppose we see if he possess 
A body worthy of his dress." 



88 THE PURCHASE OF THE ASS. 

No sooner was it said, than done ; 
They stripped the trappings, one by one, 
And, when the saddle was removed, 
The very first inspection proved 
The justice of the friend's suspicion, 
As to the animal's condition. 
Upon his back, sharp-boned and lean, 
No less than six large sores were seen ; 
Cracks and contusions eight or ten, 
With here and there a weal or wen, 
And an old tumour still unhealed, 
Which lay beneath the girth concealed. 
u An ass, indeed !"the dupe exclaimed, 
Of his stupidity ashamed ; 
" I am the greatest ass, by Heaven ! 
Who, for mere show, my cash have given." 

I must confess, when I reflect 
On this occurrence, its effect 
Appears a satire, by design, 
Upon a certain friend of mine, 
Who, (much in want of such advice,) 
Has bought, at an enormous price, 
A book, most elegantly bound, 
Embossed, and stamped, and gilt all round, 



THE SILKWORM AND THE CATTERPILLAR. 89 

And in the very finest skin, — 
Which is not worth a straw within. 



THE SILKWORM AND THE CATERPILLAR. 

My readers may recall to mind, 

The club of scientific kind, 

Which, formed amongst the brute creation, 

I mentioned in a late narration. 

'Mongst other learned talk, it chanced, 
That some one on a subject glanced, 
Which to the silkworm's nature led, 
Whose delicate and precious thread, 
In one of this same conclave's sessions, 
Was hailed with rapturous expressions ; 
And when a ball which she had spun 
Was shown, fresh eulogies it won : 
The very mole, though sightless, still, 
Owned 'twas a miracle of skill. 

Amidst this praise by all conferred, 
The caterpillar's voice was heard, 



90 THE TURKEY. 

Grumbling in most abusive terms, 
Calling the spinners stupid worms ; 
Their silk but fit to hang on briars, 
And those who praised it, fools and liars. 

" Why, how is this ?" they asked with wonder, 
" That the poor caterpillar, yonder, 
Alone, amongst us all, should dare 
To blame the work we think so fair ?" 
'■' Soft," said the fox, " I have it here ; 
Nought in the world can be more clear : 
Brethren, forgive the creature rash, 
She likewise spins, — though nought but trash." 

Authors of noble works, whom hate 
And persecution sure await, 
When envious scribes your fame assail, 
Just tell them this instructive tale. 



THE TURKEY. 



A turkey, who with sorrow knew 
How heavily her children flew, 



THE TURKEY. 91 

Resolved to have some lighter sons, 

Though they should all be bastard ones. 

To gain this end she sallied out, 

And robbed the birds that built about : 

Hawk — pigeon — goldfinch — great and small — 

She sought and pilfered eggs from all, 

From birds of every form and feather, 

And in her nest mixed all together. 

Long did she sit, and no small portion 

Perished by addling and abortion, 

The others, bursting from the shell, 

Soon like their sires flew strong and well. 

The turkey, with the brood delighted, 

Hundreds of neighbouring birds invited, 

To view this covey of her rearing, 

But, on the young birds first appearing, 

Each father quickly claimed his own, 

Flew off, and left the thief alone. 

Robbers from others' works, — who dare 
To publish what you steal, beware, — 
Some author will, at every line, 
Be heard exclaiming, u This is mine." 
Till, of your spurious brood bereft, 
We see what other you have left. 



92 



THE ANIMALS' CONCERT. 

Ye who thus far have heard my strain, 

Noble or gentle, once again, 

Hark to my lyre ! I've tuned its strings — 

Hark ! in my voice Apollo sings — 
And hark ! — let none of you be prude 
To praise the song I thus prelude. 

The lion's court was glad and gay, 
It was the monarch's natal day, 
And all his subjects met with glee, 
To show their love and loyalty. 
Addresses and congratulations — 
And kissing hands — and presentations, 
Came in their turn, and, last of all, 
The courtiers had arranged a ball, 
Which (to be stylish) 'twas agreed, 
A first-rate concert should precede. 

Now, as it frequently occurs 
In choosing parts and characters, 
(E'en amongst us) that those who do them, 
Are not the best adapted to them, 



the animals' concert. 93 

The managers forgot to ask 
The jolly blackbird to the task, 
Nor did they, even for a minute, 
Think of the nightingale or linnet, 
Nor how the sky-lark and canary 
Might with their strains the music vary ; 
Singers more confident and strong, 
Though, may-be, not so famed for song, 
Offered, with all the pride of skill, 
The vacant orchestra to fill. 

Before the appointed hour had come, 
The choristers, with buz and hum, 
And modest whispers half aloud, 
Thus spoke amongst the courtly crowd : 
" Really, your lordships can't imagine — 
The concert will be so engaging, 
But I say nought — 'twould, not be fair, 
Only remember I am there." 
The band, at length, began to assume 
Their stations in the drawing-room — 
First-rate musicians, we must own, 
As by the following list is shown : 
Two crickets took the treble places — 
Two gadflies the contralto graces — 



94 THE animals' concert. 

The tenors were an owl and frog — 
The ass was bass — and bass the hog. 

Now there's but little need to speak, 
From bray, and grunt, and croak, and squeak, 
How delicate a concord rose, — 
That my shrewd reader will suppose ; 
Such was the harmony's effect, 
That, e'en forgetting the respect 
Due to their monarch's rank and years, 
Most of the audience stopped their ears. 

The frog, who saw enough to learn 
Which way affairs were like to turn, 
And how small augury they bore 
Of hurrah ! bravo ! and encore ! 
Shrugged up her shoulders, shook her head, 
And, hopping to some distance, said, 
Thinking the others' skill to impugn : 
' Lord ! how the ass sings out of tune !" 
" I madam !" cried the ass, " you're wrong ; 
Those ugly trebles spoil the song." 
" You lie," a cricket squalled, " no doubt 
It is the hog that puts us out." 
" Ho ! fair and softly, madam shrill," 
He answered, " why attack my skill ? 



the animals' concert. 95 

I'm not surprised the strain is foul, 

When your best tenor is an owl." 

li Hoot ! — hoot!" returned the bird of night, 

" Sir bristly, learn to be polite, 

Those low-lived gadflies" . . . . " Leave rny court ! 

(The lion cut the matter short) 

Unblushing scoundrels ev'ry one — 

Before your horrid noise begun, 

Did you not, one and all, agree 

In saying how divine 'twould be ? 

And for himself, by various ways, 

Each then claimed all the expected praise. 

But now you find the infernal sound 

Has raised disgust in all around, 

Each strives his part in it to smother, 

And shifts the blame upon another. 

Begone ! nor ever more pollute 

Our presence ; and henceforth be mute ; 

For, by the glories of my reign, 

If e'er I hear you sing again, 

Look in a louder tone to bawl — 

I will make mincemeat of ye all !" 

Oh ! that my judgment might presume 
To give some authors such a doom, 



96 THE MONKEY AND THE MAGPIE. 

Who, working three or four together, 
If the book takes, each claims the feather, 
If otherwise — the censure shuns, 
And shifts it on the other ones. 



THE MONKEY AND THE MAGPIE. 

A certain magpie once invited 

(From an old book the tale is cited) 

One of the cunning monkey race, 

To see her in her dwelling place. 

" Do come," she said, with winning air, 

" YouTl see some things worth seeing there, 

You know with what address I steal, 

And afterwards my thefts conceal ; 

Come — and I'll show you where they 're hid, 

Behind a broken coffer lid." 

" Well, be it so," the other cried, 

" Madam, vouchsafe to be my guide." 

The magpie gaily led the way, 
To where her hidden jewels lay, 



THE MONKEY AND THE MAGPIE. 97 

And, when at length the room she found, 
First peeping through the doors around, 
She listened with attentive ear, 
Lest any lurkers should be near ; 
And beckoning with mysterious look, 
Close to the hole the monkey took. 

First, then, before his wondering view, 
A faded garter forth she drew ; 
And after that, two medals gilt — 
A lady's hoop —a piece of quilt — 
Of button-shanks a goodly hoard — 
The rusted fragment of a sword — 
A pocket-comb with broken teeth — 
A strip of gauze — a scissor sheath — 
Three fiddle-pegs with cat-gut tied, 
And multitudes of things beside. 
" Well, now," the magpie cried, at last, 
u Am I not wealthiest of my caste ? 
Come, don't be envious — frankly own, 
So rich a hoard was never known." 
The monkey stared at her awhile, 
And with a sort of roguish smile, 
" Really," he cried, " beyond objection, 
You have a beautiful collection, 



98 THE MONKEY AND THE MAGPIE. 

But mine, I think, will yours outdo, 
For what I store is useful too. 
Look, if you doubt, —within my jaws 
There lie concealed two bags or craws, 
Which lessen and distend at pleasure, 
And within which I keep my treasure. 
You, like a fool, your storehouse fill 
With rags, and trash more worthless still ; 
But mine are hoards of things to eat — 
Filberts and nuts — and sweets and meat — 
So when my exigencies cause 
T find provision in my jaws." 

And this shrewd monkey — was his jeer 
Meant only for a magpie's ear ? 
Believe me, but I'm half inclined 
To think his satire was designed 
To teach some authors of our day, 
Whose writings in their style display 
A somewhat similar illusion — 
A miscellaneous confusion 
Of ev'ry trifling thing on earth, 
Without one spark of wit or worth. 



99 



THE WOLF AND THE SHEPHERD. 

A wolf once came a shepherd nigh : 
" My friend," said he, " I know not why 
Your most uncharitable spirit 
Treats me with hate I do not merit ? 

i 

What warmth my skin in colds ensures ! 
A thousand human pains it cures, 
Besides that fleas, and insects vile 
Will never touch it or defile : 
My claws the badger's far outprize 
In curing weakness of the eyes ; 
My teeth — you know the use of them, 
Nor will my healing grease contemn." 
" Beast that thou art !" the shepherd said, 
" The curse of Heaven be on thy head — 
Full as thou art of ev'ry evil, 
What serves thy little good ?" — The devil 
Take all the wolves of books, I say, 
That prowl about the town to-day. 
h2 



100 



THE GARDENER AND HIS MASTER. 

Amidst fair beds of blooming flowers, 
A fountain cast its graceful showers, 
Which, as they fell, a basin formed 
Where carp and other pond-fish swarmed. 
The gardener, who had little care 
So that his flowers grew strong and fair, 
Carried so largely, every day, 
The water to their roots away, 
That the poor fish scarce cover found, 
Struggling and gasping on the ground. 
Just then, the master from the town 
To see his country seat came down, 
And, through the garden as he went, 
Observing such mismanagement, 
His servant's negligence reproved ; 
Not but that Flora's charms he loved, 
Only, undoubtedly, he knew 
Carps make a most delicious stew. 



THE GARDENER AND HIS MASTER. 101 

The gardener his mistake deplored, 
And, thinking so to please his lord, 
Lest he should draw the fountain dry, 
He let the plants unwatered die. 

It happened in a week or two, 
The master once again pass'd through, 
And felt indignant on descrying 
His choicest flowers all dead or dying ; 
So summoning the foolish man 
He thus in angry tone began : 
" Unworthy of the pay you earn — 
Fool ! will you never wisdom learn ? 
Neither my hapless fishes slaughter, 
By robbing them of all the water; 
Nor leave ray flowers to fade and fall 
By never watering them at all." 

The maxim may be trite and old, 
But let it once again be told, 
Would you your works successful see, 
Join pleasure to utility. 



102 



THE MONKEY. 

A monkey in a silken dress 
Remains a monkey not the less ; 
So says the proverb — so say I — 
And here, before my reader's eye 
I'll mingle, (easier said than done,) 
The proverb and a tale in one. 

A monkey dressed himself, one day, 
In a rich suit of colours gay, 
Such as at theatre and fair 
The harlequin is wont to wear ; 
(For me, I must confess, I doubt 
That he had thus himself decked out — 
Most likely 'twas his master's gift ; 
For he'd have made a sorry shift 
To find a tailor and the stuff — 
The proverb says it — that's enough.) 
Thus gallantly attired, he flung 
A window up, and forth he sprung, 
And after many a fearful bound 
From roof to roof, he reached the ground, 



THE MONKEY. 103 

And straitway started on the road 
For Tetuan, his old abode. 
The proverb does not mention this, 
But in a work not wrote amiss, 
Which, from its rarity, is known 
But to a lucky few alone, 
The author makes the facts appear 
As I have introduced them here. 
I know not, any more than he, 
Whether the monkey crossed the sea, 
And sought his home by way of Fez, 
Or by the isthmus of Suez ; 
Thus much at least I may declare, 
That he arrived in safety there. 
His brethren's haunts were quickly found, 
And naked monkies flocked around, 
Who, of offending him afraid, 
With much respect their homage paid, 
Not doubting, one so richly dressed 
Must be of every worth possessed : 
Active and cunning — brave and sage — 
In short a mighty personage. 
With unanimity they chose, 
(Such is the power of fine clothes,) 



104 THE MONKEY. 

To entrust him with the sole commission 

Of an important expedition 

To the interior for forage, 

A charge demanding skill and courage, 

And upon which, howe'er it ended, 

The food and lives of all depended. 

Invested with supreme command, 
The new made chief led on his band, 
Soon lost his way, and, bad on bad, 
With that, what little sense he had. 
Yet his poor fools of comrades, still 
Confiding, followed at his will 
O'er woods and vallies, rocks and glens, 
Rivers and deserts, bogs and fens, 
Until, at length, the day was done, 
Without one single mouthful won. 
The dire effects of this disgrace 
Threatened the extinction of the race, 
And monkeys to this hour confess, 
Talents are not conferred by dress. 

But e'en on our side of the globe 
I have seen monkies, who the robe 
Of doctors and professors wore, 
And yet were monkies as before. 



105 



THE SQUIRREL AND THE HORSE. 

A squirrel, on his hind-legs raised, 
Upon a noble charger gazed, 
Who, docile to the spur and rein, 
Went through his manage on the plain ; 
Now seeming like the wind to fly, 
Now gracefully curvetting by. 

" Good sir/' the little tumbler said, 
And, with much coolness, scratched his head, 
" In all your swiftness, skill, and spirit, 
I do not see there's much of merit ; 
For, all you seem so proud to do, 
I can perform, and better too ; 
I'm light and nimble, brisk, and sprightly, 
I trot, and skip, and canter lightly, 
Backwards and forwards — here and there, 
Now on the earth — now in the air — 
From bough to bough — from hill to hill, 
And never for a moment still." 

The courser tossed his head on high, 
And made the squirrel this reply : 



106 THE COCK, THE HOG, AND THE LAMB. 

" My little nimble jealous friend, 

Those turns and tumbles without end — 

That hither, thither, restless springing — 

Those ups and downs, and leaps and swinging 

And other feats more wondrous far, 

Pray tell me, of what use they are ? 

But what I do, this praise may claim - 

My master's service is my aim, 

And laudably I use for him 

My warmth of blood and strength of limb." 

Authors, revolve this fable's moral — 
And look, lest haply, like the squirrel, 
In vain and frivolous pursuits 
You waste your talents and their fruits. 



THE COCK, THE HOG, AND THE LAMB. 

Within a paddock's space there stood, 
Divided by a fence of wood, 
A hen-house, where, with fiery crown, 
A cock fierce strutted up and down. 



THE COCK, THE HOG, AND THE LAMB. 107 

On th 'other side, within a sty, 
A fattening hog was wont to lie ; 
And, in the midst, a lamb was seen 
Grazing upon the pasture green : 
Thus lived these amiable three 
In happiness and amity. 

Well, (by your favour be it said,) 
The hog, one day, got out of bed, 
And, yawning as if scarce awake, 
Thus to the lamb benignly spake, 
" How sweet is sleep ! how blest a fate 
To lie in such pacific state — 
How healthful too ! — my little dear, 
The wisdom of experience hear ; 
This short and miserable life 
Is with unnumbered evils rife, 
But trust me, there is not a bliss 
Half so delectable as this, 
To stretch oneself upon the ground, 
And snore, and let the world turn round." 

" Hold," cried the cock, " Sir Lazy, there — 
My little innocent, beware — 
Would you be healthy, strong and light, 
Sleep ne'er by day — and spare by night ; 



108 THE WATCHES. 

And, if long life you tender dear, 
Rise ere the dawn throughout the year ; 
For sleep benumbs, and wastes, and dries, 
The mind's and body's faculties." 

The lamb, perplexed between the two, 
Could not determine what to do, 
Nor (being so inexperienced) guessed 
That each advised, what each liked best. 

So authors, we are apt to find, 
Lay axioms down for all mankind, 
As the best rules for practice known, 
Merely because they suit their own. 



THE WATCHES. 

A courtier, famed for banquets fine, 
Invited once some friends to dine, 
And one of them, a tardy guest, 
Coming an hour behind the rest, 
Regretted he had made them wait, 
But still denied that he was late. 



THE WATCHES. 109 

" For look/' he cried, and, full in view, 

Forth from his fob his watch he drew, 

" I've come in time, as I'm alive, 

You see the hand is just at five." 

" What stuff!" they cried ; * you surely know 

Your watch is near an hour too slow." 

" Indeed ! but sirs," he said, perplexed, 

" Can I do more than show my text ? 

Here is my watch," .... The reader sage 

Will see this worthy personage 

Resembles those, who, when attacked 

For some absurd and foolish act, 

Seize, as their shield against defeat, 

The first authority they meet. 

But tov return — to solve the doubt, 
The guests all drew their watches out, 
But one was slow, and one was fast, 
One was a quarter — one half past, 
One wanted twenty minutes to — 
While one, e'en time himself outflew, 
And, ticking on at wondrous rate, 
Was just upon the stroke of eight. 
In short, in such a case of need 
Not two amongst them all agreed. 



110 THE TWO TRAVELLERS. 

The doubts and cavils thus increased, 
Until the giver of the feast, 
A man of science known to be, 
And skilful in astronomy, 
Having with much attention viewed 
The sun's meridian altitude 
With his chronometer compared, 
He thus the mean result declared : 
" Tis six and just two seconds past — 
So, friends, we know the time at last ; 
And now, if any of you think 
That truth — immortal truth — can sink 
Beneath the seeming weight that lies 
In dogmas and authorities, 
Reflect on this — and tell me whether 
She is not worth them all together." 



THE TWO TRAVELLERS. 



Two travellers once, in weary case, 
Had reached a little country place, 



THE TWO TRAVELLERS. Ill 

And looked about, as well they might, 
To find a lodging for the night. 
Two neighbours, better than the rest, 
Their hospitable offers pressed ; 
Prayers, beggings, almost force they used, 
And neither one would be refused. 

The friends, afraid to give offence 
By showing one the preference, 
Thus compromised, the feud to smother, 
One went with one, and one with th'other. 

The house the one preferred, possessed 
Attractions for a princely guest ; 
A spacious, well paved court before, 
With sculptured arms above the door ; 
In fact, the whole facade appeared 
A structure for a monarch reared. 
The other house, in form and height 
Not so attractive to the sight, 
Was admirably well supplied 
With every requisite inside. 
And never were apartments seen 
More comfortable, light, and clean ; 
While the great place, which, seen without, 
A mansion seemed bevond a doubt, 



112 * THE TWO TRAVELLERS. 

Within, was nought but cold and gloom 

Scarce width enough for turning room, 

Choked up with useless corridors, 

And huge walls full of cracks and pores ; 

And the poor traveller found his bed 

Within a dirty garret spread, 

Beneath a roof of thatching thin, 

Through which the wind and rain poured in. 

Sleepless and cold, he passed the night, 
And, rising with the earliest light, 
Seeking his friend, to him declared 
How miserably he had fared. 
" An useful lesson you have learned," 
The prudent moralist returned, 
" You see how much deception lies 
In mere external qualities. 
And now, to change the subject, look 
How often will you find a book, 
Likely attraction to engage 
By a well-written title-page, 
Which, of its outward show bereft, 
Is like the lodging you have left : 
Dark style — excluding light and air — 
Long passages — which lead no where — 



THE LEARNED RICH MAN. 113 

Mean, vulgar thoughts, thatched badly over 
By words which yield but sorry cover — 
Which, in one line the truth to put, 
A palace seems, and is a hut." 



THE LEARNED RICH MAN. 

A worthy, who in riches rolled, 

And yet (would this be better told, 

Or silent passed ? — I scarce know which,) 

Who was e'en far more fool than rich, 

Possessed a mansion in Madrid, 

Whose rooms, magnificently hid, 

With gold and silver seemed to shine — 

With hangings rich, and paintings fine, 

And all that money could procure 

Of gay and splendid furniture. 

" Pity \" exclaimed a friend, one day, 
u Such splendour should be thrown away, 
Merely because one thing we miss, 
Most needful in a house like this, 

i 



114 THE LEARNED RICH MAN. 

A well stocked library I mean, 

In great men's dwellings always seen." 

" Upon my word," the owner said, 
" The thought ne'er entered in my head ; 
But yet there's time — the northern wing 
Will surely be the very thing. 
I'll have the first upholsterers come 
And take the measure of the room, 
And fit it up amongst themselves 
With rich and spacious cedar shelves, 
And when we've settled how it looks 
We'll have some talk about the books. 
The workmen came — the shelves were framed 
"Well now," the worthy man exclaimed, 
(And as he gazed on them he sighed,) 
" These shelves must be with books supplied — 
Ten or twelve thousand — let me see, — 
Twelve thousand ! what a task 'twill be ! 
Surely an age will scarce suffice, — 
And then the toil ! and then the price ! 
But why in this dilemma dwell ? 
Sure painted boards would do as well, 
Why should they not ? with lettered backs — 
And edges gilt, and such like knacks ? 



THE ROPE DANCER AND HIS PUPIL. 115 

I know a clever painter, who 
Can well such imitation do." 

All hands to work. — The artist came, 
And painting books of choicest name, 
Old, modern, manuscript, and print, 
Even improved his patron's hint ; 
Who, never of the prospect tired, 
So much his counterfeits admired, 
That daily through the room he passed, 
Reading the titles, and, at last, 
Catching so many names, began 
To think himself a learned man. 

And surely those who only heed 
The titles of the books they read, 
So erudite a v store might hoard, 
At less expense from books of board. 



THE ROPE-DANCER AND HIS PUPIL, 

A tight-rope dancer, who, they say, 
Was a great master in his way, 

i 2 



116 THE ROPE-DANCER AND HIS PUPIL. 

Was tutoring a youth to spring 

Upon the slight and yielding string, 

Who, though a novice in the science, 

Had in his talents great reliance, 

And, as on high his steps he tried, 

Thus to his sage instructor cried : 

" This pole you call the counterpoise 

My every attitude annoys ; 

I really cannot think it good 

To use this cumbrous piece of wood, 

In such a business as our's, 

An art requiring all our powers. 

Why should I with this burden couple ? — 

Am I not active, strong, and supple ? 

Come — see me try this step without it, 

I'll manage better, do not doubt it : — 

See, 'tis not difficult at all." 

He said, and let the balance fall, 

And, taking fearlessly a bound, 

He tumbled headlong on the ground, 

With compound fracture of the shin, 

And six or seven ribs crushed in. 

" Unhappy youth !" the master said, 

" What was your truest help and aid, 



THE TURNSPIT AND THE MULE. 117 

Impediment you thought to be, — 
From art and method if you flee, 
Believe me, ere your life has passed, 
This tumble will not be your last." 



THE TURNSPIT AND THE MULE. 

In days of yore, when watchwork, springs, 
And smoke-j acks were in leading strings, 
Our sires a neat contrivance found, 
To make their meat turn duly round ; 
A wheel it was, with stairs supplied, 
And a small dog was placed inside, 
By whose incessant ambulation, 
The joint turned round in just rotation. 

A spaniel of this worthy race, 
Grew discontented with his place, 
And, with a melancholy sigh, 
Broke out in this soliloquy : 
" Alas ! how wretched is my lot ! 
Slave that I am, and all for what ? 



118 THE TURNSPIT AND THE MULE. 

For all the exhausting toil I feel, 
Sweating in this eternal wheel, 
The pickings of the bird 1 roast, 
Will be my recompense at most. 
And shall I serve these tyrants still, 
Who pay my services so ill ? 
Soon as they loose me from my tether, 
I'll leave the house and town together/' 

The cooking over for the day, 
True to his word, he sneaked away ; 
Strait from the city gates he passed, 
Till, in the fields, he came at last 
To where a mule of sturdy stature, 
Placed in a wheel, was drawing water. 
" How now !" he cried, l< what's this ? I fear 
They 're roasting victuals even here." 
" This is no spit, you silly thing, 
I raise the water from the spring," 
The mule exclaimed. " Indeed you do ?" 
The turnspit cried, " then I will too, — 
What though my form is rather slight, 
And this same wheel not over light, 
Be it as heavy as it may, 
I've turned a wheel before to-day, 



THE TURNSPIT AND THE MULE. 119 

And, as the work is somewhat harder, 

No doubt they keep a better larder, 

Besides the sure increase of ration, 

Tis a more glorious occupation." 

" Take my advice, you imp of pride," 

He of the water-wheel replied : 

" Return your excellency home, 

Nor from the spit in future roam ; 

My wheel, I'd have you know at length, 

Is far beyond a puppy's strength." 

The keen laconic mule — how fine 
His satire of the fool canine ! 
And, now I think of it, I'll quote 
Some good advice one Horace wrote, 
* That authors should of tasks beware, 
Which they possess not strength to bear:' 
The which in other words reveals, 
That turnspits can't turn water-wheels. 



120 



THE MACAW AND THE MARMOT. 

A gay and beautiful macaw 

One day from his verandah saw 

A poor Savoyard boy below, 

Who of a marmot made a show. 

Now, an exceeding ugly creature 

The marmot is, in every feature ; 

Yet, with applauses long and loud, 

'Twas greeted by the vulgar crowd, 

And numbers gave their cash to see, 

The foreign curiosity. 

'•' How strange !" exclaimed our graceful bird, 

Who wondered at the praise conferred, 

And that the creature in the cage, 

Such admiration should engage : 

" How strange ! that they should pay to see 

An ugly animal like thee, 

When here my beauties they may view, 

Worthy their gaze, and gratis too : 

E'en were you beautiful and fair, 

This fact would all your worth impair, 



THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE SPARROW. 121 

That for the sake of hire and pelf, 
You basely prostitute yourself. 

A sorry author, who had heard 
Up to this point the critic bird, 
Hung down his head, and slunk away — 
A printer had him in his pay. 



THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE SPARROW. 

A nightingale, with tender throat, 
Soft warbling to the organ's note, 
Was practising a song, one day, 
When a pert sparrow came that way, 
And, worthy of his saucy clan, 
Flew to the cage and thus began : 
"Really, I'm quite surprised that you, 
The best-skilled bird I ever knew, 
Should to so low a state be brought, 
As by your pupil to be taught ; 
For from that voice of your's alone, 
The organ learnt its every tone." 



122 THE MULE AND THE TRAVELLER. 

" Let it be so," the songster cried, 
" It does in no way hurt my pride, 
Nor my just merits can it dim — 
He learnt of me — I learn of him — 
He strives to catch these tones of mine, 
While I my warblings wild confine 
By that judicious art, which bounds 
His harmonied and measured sounds, 
And which is of no small avail, 
Even to me, a nightingale." 

Shall gifted minds instruction spurn, 
And learned men disdain to learn ? — 
Such with augmented thirst should glow, 
And study more, the more they know. 



THE MULE AND THE TRAVELLER. 

Full to the mouth with hay and corn, 
A hack-mule left the inn one morn, 
Running as if a race to win ; 
The rider scarce could hold her in, 



THE MULE AND THE TRAVELLER. 123 

Not doubting he should soon alight, 

Safe at his quarters for the night. 

Not far, however, had they gone, 

When she began to flag : " Get on," 

He said, " You can go if you will : 

Tck ! — tck ! — come up !" the mule stood still. 

" How now ! — come, let us try the spur." 

He did, — no use, — she would not stir. 

" Perhaps this switch may do her good :" 

Slash ! — slash ! — the beast seemed made of wood. 

" I'm half afraid she'll try a fall, — 

Or she ? s fatigued, — perhaps that's all." 

Again he spurred, — the curb he drew, — 

When, on a sudden, up she flew ! — 

Kicked right and left, — curvetted, — reared,- 

And, as the traveller had feared, 

Finding his legs grasped tightly round, 

She tumbled with him to the ground. 

" You beast !" the man was heard to say, 

As groaning on the earth he lay ; 

" You who went on so well at first, — 

Die of the glanders, — and be cursed !" 

I'd never trust a mule, — not I, 
That starts at first so friskily, 



124 THE WASPS. 

And, when I see an author, in 

A high and lofty style begin ; 

" Softly, good man, — take care :" I say, 

" Look to your paces all the way, 

Or like the mule you may be found, 

At no great distance, on the ground." 



THE WASPS. 



Amidst a cellar's well stocked bin, 
There rose a most astounding din ; 
A swarm of wasps, a tippling set, 
To quafT a social cup, had met, 
And, as it frequently occurs, 
Amongst such worthy characters, 
Nor to such scenes at all unsuiting, 
Ere long they all began disputing. 

It seems, (unless I've heard amiss,) 
The matter in debate was this : 
Some old, mature, experienced sages, 
Had praised the wines of former ages, 



THE WASPS. 125 

And said, that as for modern wine, 
It was not near so bright and fine, — 
Did not possess that fragrant savour, 
Nor half so delicate a flavour, — 
Nor such a body, strength, or worth, — 
It was the poorest stuff on earth ; 
Indeed, according to their thinking, 
Not fit for gentlemanly drinking. 

Now though this judgment pleased one side, 
Many the truth of it denied, 
And, with a different taste possessed, 
Declared that modern wines were best. 
And ridiculed, with open sneers, 
The whims of partial, doating seers, 
Who praised old things, nor seemed to care, 
So they were ancient, what they were. 
Losing all decency and form, 
The strife grew personal and warm, 
And thus they stormed through thick and thin, 
When a grey-headed wasp came in ; 
A shrewd old toper, we may swear, 
Who having heard the whole affair, 
Poured out a glass, and drank it up : 
" Now, by the god of wine and cup ! 



126 THE WASPS. 

I vow," he said, (" and now I'll place 

Myself as umpire in the case,) 

That none is better qualified 

On such a subject to decide. 

For as to wines, where'er they are, 

In cask or bottle, skin or jar, 

In cellars stowed — from rafters slung — 

Despite of seal, and cork, and bung, 

When once I've scented out the grape, 

No vessel can my search escape ; 

I try the treasures they contain, 

Nor ever visit them in vain. 

And as for tasting, proving, judging, 

(Without due praise to others grudging) 

Not Xeres, Malaga, Peralta, 

Oporto, TenerifTe and Malta, 

So famed for connoisseurs of wine, 

Can boast a palate such as mine. 

Know, then, 'tis most absurd to think 

That all the aged wines we drink 

Have gained the flavour which they own 

From being kept, and age alone ; 

Time has improved them, there's no doubt, 

Few things are perfected without ; 



THE WASPS. 127 

But if such wine had not been good 

When first 'twas racked within the wood, 

Experience tells me, and I know, 

'Twould have turned sour long ago ; 

For, in those days, (as I may add,) 

As now, wine would sometimes be bad. 

Then, on the other hand, I say, 

That wines, the produce of our day, 

New as they are, will often claim 

To rank with those of oldest name ; 

But even if by us despised, 

How can we tell how praised and prized 

That very hogshead may not be 

By some of our posterity. 

With this, then, let the contest cease, 

And the two parties make their peace. 

Lastly, this sentence is for them : 

Bad w T ine I ever will condemn; 

But when 'tis good and worthy praise, 

I care not what its length of days, 

Or whether it is old or new, 

I quaff it off — so — here's to you." 

And nodding to them, one by one, 

He ended as he had begun. 



128 THE WASPS. 

Let learned folks their temper waste 
In strife about the palm of taste, 
Which some to modern times decree, 
And others to antiquity. 
The wasp's opinion shall be mine ; 
It is with letters as with wine. 



THE END. 



PRINTED BY STEWART AND CO.. OLD BATI.EV 



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